Okay, I’m in trouble. You see, I’ve grown accustomed to being hopeless. That is to say, I’ve grown accustomed to getting the inseminations wrong or having things go wrong because they are out of our control, and now that we got it right, I feel this weird hopeful feeling. It’s terrifying.
Last month, I knew there was only about a .0000001% chance that I was pregnant, so I avoided getting my hopes up until the last day or two before my period, and then I knew I was just being indulgent. This time, I’m hopeful like I was the first time around (although the first time around, we had bad, bad timing).
It’s not that I’m a consummate pessimist and that the idea of hope is foreign to me. In fact, I’m the optimist in my relationship with J. I’m always trying to find the silver lining, and pointing it out to her, but I’m not used to thinking something good could actually happen to me–to us. Not something big and good like this. It really is a vulnerable place to be because we need to open ourselves to the possibility that we could have a baby, but for now, I’m a little uncomfortable with the feeling. It’s a bit like wearing a new pair of shoes. They may look fabulous, but there is this trial period where one finds out if they’re going to work out or not, whether they are going to give you some nasty blisters, or whether they are going to be the best shoes ever. It’s kind of a bad analogy, but that is how I feel right now.
This is going to be a long couple of weeks.