Sometimes when people tell me they are pregnant my whole body tenses and I reflexively suck my breath in.  It’s a 100% knee-jerk reaction. It’s fear. I’m fearful for them.  Is that not so crazy sad?

Fear and heartache is what I have come to know with pregnancy. It is what I have come to feel when I see those two pink lines. The last time I had a positive test the first words out of my mouth were, “Oh Fuck.”

In nine days we will implant an already formed embryo. These are the best chances we’ll ever have. All of my physical issues have been surgically corrected or removed and the embryo has fertilized properly, formed normally and has all of the correct chromosomes.

Terrified is what I know to be.  I also know, if I allow the terror to overtake me I’m in grave danger of missing the joy.  Even the kind of joy that comes in the deepest end of the worst parts.  So, I will push my instinct to protect and preserve myself out of the driver’s seat and into the very back, ever so small, third row.  This will be a story of love, hope, persistence and joy.  No matter the outcome.  Because I can make it so.  I get to decide.  I am driving.

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