Why I am telling the blogging world about this when I won't even tell my own mother for at least another month or more, I don't know.
But late last week I found out that my BFN ... wasn't.
I almost don't know what to feel right now. I want to feel excited. But instead, it's like I'm waiting for it to go wrong, like it's only a matter of time before it goes wrong again. Am I doing this to protect myself?
The timing couldn't have been more ironic: I'd barely started to adjust to the new medication, I'd just made the decision to start yoga teacher training in September, the due date will be at the beginning of the three busiest months of my work calendar (which means a leave that will be more working from home than actual leave time).
And yet, parenting is about learning to give up control, isn't it? Maybe I didn't learn that lesson well enough the first time around ...
You are all hereby sworn to secrecy. But I'm glad to have some people sending positive energy. We have a long way to go, and there are very few people who know me in "real life" that I can trust with this right now.