Back to Belly Shots!

I have to admit I've been an emotional wreck. I think I spent two hours whining the other night. It was bad enough that C asked what happened to the "real" me. I feel huge. My body is not my own. If I were pregnant, I would totally accept every minute of it but as it is, I feel like someones teasing and taunting me. Still four weeks. My ultrasound is on the 22nd. I can finally stop taking birth control on Saturday but by then, I'll surely be crying in every lap I find. The Lupron makes me nauseous but I can deal with that.

I have to tell you all, again, how wonderful my partner is. She may read this and be bothered but seriously, I couldn't do this without her. She sets an alarm that sounds like butterflies every morning and she gets my pill and my surringe and stands with me while I count to three...then count to three...and do it over and over until I get the nerve to push it in. She's patient and soft and supportive and encouraging. I love her madly.

Just keep your fingers crossed for me, for her - for all of us floating this uncertain ocean.

Last night we went to a seminar on how to protect families like mine. I was sort of removed from it, knowing that my story is what brought up all the fear. It's hard to sit there and hope for people to do all they can - knowing that it still may not be enough. There were two other woman (that I know of) in the audience who are going through similar struggles. I sat there praying for them and just begging that their stories have a better ending - that their daughters come home/stay home. For some crazy reason, I have hope.

A woman came up to me and said she'd been praying for me and Gray and asked how I was doing. I typically say something like, "I'm fine. Thank you for asking." But I knew she was really asking and I couldn't lie. I felt tears come to my eyes and just said, "I miss her." And I do. There was a tiny girl there that I coudln't keep my eyes off of. She wore brown mary-janes with pink socks. Is there anything more sweet? It made me miss things like smelly feet and buckles and poorly painted toe nails.

What I wouldn't give to just lay her head against my chest again and have her tell me what my heart beat says... "gra-cie, gra-cie, gra-cie" - she knows every beat.