First the happiness that fills you up, when you see the ‘plus‘-sign on the predictor, when wanting a baby. The thoughts of how the near future may look like. The wondering of the sexe, and what names might suit him or her.
Then the worrying and the ‘what ifs‘. Without a confirmation you can‘t be sure. And the long wait until the docter‘s appointment.
Meanwhile a backache here and there, and very suspiscious, the lack of morning sickness. Memories uncover and similarities are found with that first pregnancy. The one that turned to be a sad story, because of the unexpected turnout of a miscarriage.
And so it was again. The same event, but a different exprience. This time I was not only prepared, I had already come in peace with the former miscarriage. Also I wasn‘t childless anymore.
Still, to be able to rationalise doesn‘t mean you can‘t be sad.
Then there was the hospitalisation. I didn‘t like this bit the last time, so I wasn‘t looking forward to this. But it all went better then expected. I wasn‘t feeling sick of the narcotics and I wasn‘t bleeding, nor having cramps. After an hour I was already being released.
Going home and looking forward to seeing my happy and healthy kids. Appreciating more what I have, and if possible, loving them even more.
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