Or, Try Happy.

I hemmed and hawed over whether to write this before my second beta results or after. I chose before because que sera sera.

As you could undoubtedly tell from my post on Friday, I was completely terrified to be pregnant again. A friend of mine who has suffered from RPL (repeat pregnancy loss - due to male factor) and is now in her second trimester with a healthy baby, told me that between pregnancies one and five (this is five), she spent two through four miserable, "waiting for the other shoe to drop." For this pregnancy, she said she just let herself enjoy no matter if she miscarried or not. It sounded a whole lot more fun than my original plan - rocking in the fetal position in the dark, listening to R.E.M. "Everybody Hurts" for weeks/months on end - so, armed with the good news on the beta, I gave it a whirl. I practiced the fine art of happiness. It didn't come easy at first. The breakthrough came on Friday night up at the cabin when we told Vlad and Maggie the good news, tempered with the caveat that it was clearly insanely early to tell anyone and that they were only to pray and cross their fingers. Their response was completely joyous and had none of the fear and trepidation that I had been harboring. Vlad gave me my first ever pregnancy-high-five.

I woke up the next morning to the sun shining, birds singing, and cows mooing at the neighboring farm. My first lucid thought was, "I am so happy." And I let it ride. Still am, though I'm reasonably nervous for the results beta #2. No matter what the results of that beta, or whatever comes in the next few weeks, I've had a really incredible few days and enjoyed the shit out of this pregnancy however early and tenuous it may be.