What if....?

I have to admit something. It's pretty big and really caught me off guard: I'm excited to have Wombat. There I said it. Yeah, that seems a little weird as every pregnant woman I've ever met is excited about her baby. However, after a loss, it's different. There fear is there. The knowledge of what can and did happen. How that feels. It's all there. It's experienced. It made me think that I wouldn't be excited until I actually heard the doctor say "congratulations!" Well, then it happened.

I was talking to my online pregnancy buddy who is due pretty much the same time as me. Let's call her "Mollie." Anyway, I realized in talking to "Mollie" that I was excited and admitted it to her. Her response was that she was really excited that I was excited. All this got me thinking as I was driving home...

At the end of July, I could actually make my lifelong dream of being a mother come true. I could be holding a baby who will throw up all over me, make me heave with stinky poop, possibly pee on me, break my heart when he/she cries, light up my entire soul with just one smile, and I have no idea what else. It's going to be a roller coaster.

When I think about it that way, how could I not get excited. Yes, another piece of my heart could disappear like it did with Moose, but what if it doesn't. What if this actually works out? What if I actually get to hold one of these?



Granted, my Wombat will actually be a person with a fantastic nickname, but still...what if?