About 2 weeks ago I dreamt that I was lying on a bed while poking my stomach. While poking, I was thoughtfully wondering where my placenta may be lying within my uterus and contemplating pregnancy. I was not afraid; it’s as if I never knew that a pregnancy could end so horribly and not result in a baby to bring home.
Well yesterday on New Year’s Eve, I finally broke down and took a home pregnancy test, as my period was four days late.
It was late for a reason.
I am pregnant.
Shit! I am pregnant again.
This time I know enough to know that there are no guarantees, this time I know that pregnancies are riddled with chance.
…and I havn’t for a moment forgotten that there is a 25% chance of recurrence of our genetic syndrome. Unfortunately, I can’t even name the syndrome here, it is so rare, that I may actually be found out.
My husband affectionately refers to the pregnancy as popcorn kernel. So he just wants us to regard it as that, so that we won’t get too attached, if things go wrong.
But I can’t. You see, I already love this baby. I already want this baby as much as I wanted my first.