Drifting

I am adrift on a sea of nausea in a rudderless oarless boat. But I am not alone. There is another passenger aboard

Just So

I feel too tired and overwhelmed for eloquence or style. We had a scare yesterday and my dear Dr. Cookie Pie came in to see me on a Sunday. Not only was the scare a false alarm, but we had a good strong heartbeat in an embie measuring 6 weeks, 3 days, exactly to dates. Of my 5 prior losses, 2 had heartbeats at this stage, so I am by no means out of the woods. But guess what, my 1 live birth had a heartbeat at this stage...

I am overwhelmed by hope and fear. And soo tired. All this is hard on Turtle; I am sleeping about 13-14 hours a day. He seems so puzzled that I keep falling asleep again just when he wants to play. And vomiting is of course very upsetting to watch. But if we're home alone together it seems worse to lock him out. So there he is by my side, querying after each retch, "what's that Mommy, what's that?" He summed the whole thing up well when he said, "Yucko, Mama!"

I finally decided to level with him. I told him, "Mommy's body is working very hard to make a baby. Babies are very hard to make, and it might work or it might not. We are going to have to wait a long time to see. But right now my body is trying and that's why I'm so tired and sick." It seemed pretty heavy stuff for a non-yet-three year old. But he actually looked very relieved to get the information. Like, "I *knew* something was going on, thank God someone finally told me." A couple of minutes later he said, confidently yet clearly also anxiously, "my body can't make a baby." And I said, "No, your body can't make a baby, you don't have to worry. Daddy's body can't make a baby. Only mommies' bodies can make babies." He nodded as if to say, "Just, so" and went about his business building a block park to surround his train tracks.