So, I've finally wrapped my head around the fact that I'm pregnant. Not only that, but I'm due February 3rd, which is a mere 5 days after what would have been Alex's first birthday. In a way I'm so very grateful for that because this new baby, who will with God's grace be healthy, will fill a small bit of that hole at the moment when we will most need it filled. I hope.
Physically I'm not feeling much. In a way I'm praying for sick. Alex's pregnancy was too easy, and I have myself convinced that if I have a rough pregnancy, that MUST mean the baby will be fine. It's strange how logic goes out the window and I find myself grasping for any shred of hope to hold on to.