Three years ago, when I was 6 weeks 4 days pregnant, J~ and I went together to a doctor in hopes of receiving good news about a pregnancy I felt sure was doomed. We did receive good news that day, saw a fetus of just the right size with a good heartbeat on the ultrasound screen. (I wrote all about it here). We went home stunned and elated. Actually, J~ was elated. I was thrilled but also shell-shocked, unable to shake my fears. As you may know, ultimately, things did not work out with that pregnancy.
Tomorrow morning at 8:45 we will revisit that same waiting room, that same ultrasound machine. I will be six weeks six days pregnant, forty years old instead of thirty-seven. I feel very much as I did three years ago, though less distraught. Whatever the news, I will spend the afternoon tending to my garden, my dog, my newest design client. I will eat a nice lunch from tonight's leftovers: green salad, curried chicken, and brown rice. I will probably cry.
And then I will update the blog.