It was this past Halloween and my period was late. The thought did not occur to me to take a pregnancy test (including the miscarriage, it took more than a year to get pregnant with Anna), but I figured I had better since our neighborhood block party was promising beer, and a woman in her thirties should always be sure. But there is no way, I thought to myself.
And here we are, at week twelve. Over the all day sickness (Seriously- who thought of the term 'morning sickness'? Must have been a dude.) But still not over the shock. And then, yesterday, a waving arm; a beating heart:
And a little bit of something that may or may not be an actual something:
And now-- finally-- the shock is starting to wear off. I'm happy, I'm scared, I'm excited, I'm completely overwhelmed, but mostly I'm finally feeling thankful. A woman in her thirties can't control everything. And sometimes, in those times when she can't, the most miraculous of surprises can appear.