9 weeks

Yesterday I heard a heartbeat again, and saw that my little one had grown enormously in just the two weeks since the last scan. No wonder I've been so tired and nauseated! I placed the pictures from the three scans next to one another--5 weeks just to confirm the pregnancy; nearly 7 to hear the heartbeat for the first time; and yesterday. The growth is amazing. First there's just a little black oval where there's clearly a gestational sac in my uterus, but the embryo is too small to be seen; then there's a little white tadpole-shaped embryo inside a much, much larger dark sac, and yesterday, there was this big kidney-shaped sac and a white form that, to me, looks actually kind of like a baby! With a round head curled over a body, and maybe even two little white spots for feet I can discern (or imagine) and little arms too.

It's truly amazing how much has happened in only a month. If I ever need to convince myself to rest when I feel like it, I'll remember this. Today the embryo officially became a "fetus," which is exciting, because I've never reached that stage before; and after my appointment, I "graduated" from Dr. Special's office to the midwife. She told me to definitely bring the baby back to meet her. Because...there will be a baby at the end of this? I can actually hope?! During the scan, the fetus actually scooted away from the ultrasound--what? It can move?! how cool!--as we were listening to the heartbeat, which was perfect, and which we recorded again, this time without the interruption of me bursting into tears. But I did really start crying, and needed multiple tissues, once we were saying goodbye to the office and the nurse handed me my little "parting gift":

A baby spoon. Because we very well at this point might have a baby, who will someday need a little tiny spoon. Even now, after two miscarriages and two years of trying, my eyes redden at the thought. I was even thinking, you know, at this point, all we can think about is how much we need this baby to be healthy and survive and come home with us, but this baby really needs *us.* Even if we wanted to just kind of ignore it and not think about it for a while, it needs us to attach to it, it needs us to love us with all our might, it needs us to get ready to bring it home, it needs us to learn how to take care of our fears so that we can take care of *it*. 

It feels so good to allow myself to truly hope. Although I noticed last night and this morning I got irritable--I wonder if there is a part of me that is also afraid of this becoming real, at last. Afraid that I'll forget about my own pain from my own childhood and the losses from my own family when I'm trying so hard to give my child all the love s/he needs. Afraid that there won't be time for myself, for me to feel vulnerable and to take care of myself, now that there's a baby coming. MFP actually pointed out my irritability to me and wondered about this, and he's right. I don't want to try to be some kind of invulnerable parent; to forget about my own past and put my own healing journey aside in this process. I think that would actually in the end make me a worse parent, even if it means making time for myself and taking care of myself in the short term. But I definitely don't think this will be easy. All I know is I want to love this baby with all of me, with my whole heart, even the parts of me that wish that I had the kind of family of origin that I'm going to give my child. 

I snapped at MFP when he expressed fear that maybe this still won't work out. Clearly I just wasn't even letting myself admit that I'm still afraid, too. As though acknowledging the fear would make it more real. But it won't. Yes, anything could happen still at this point. I'm still not in control. I'm getting attached, I'm loving this baby, and that opens me up to enormous heartache. That reminds me of how, after miscarriage #1, MFP and I were talking about how we entered this game of parenthood, and we learned what a heart-wrenching, brutal, and amazing game it was. You open your heart to get totally gutted. You open your heart to feel love and hope and joy that you never expected to feel. I'm proud of us for choosing to try out this game, for being brave with our curiosity about it. And here we are, still playing it, another round this time, and we are vulnerable as hell. We are taking a risk to love, even at this early stage; we can't help it. It's funny though; we're vulnerable, but I have to remember how much more incredibly vulnerable my baby is. She needs us to get through it; he needs us to stay calm and keep loving even in the face of fear. But also not to get really resentful with each other like I did when MFP expressed fear!

Symptom-wise, I read that this week the nausea and exhaustion might peak. I'm definitely feeling brutally exhausted, and the nausea is near-constant. Life marches on though, I still have tons of work to do. It's hard to accept that I need to rest as much as I do, to be kind to myself about it. Like when I see ants crawling all over the garbage that needs to be taken out when I'm on my way to work. But fuck it, so I have a messy house. I'm growing a baby.