It's been one whole year since I found out I was pregnant with Little Poppet.
Has it really been that long?
That Friday all my pre-period symptoms had disappeared and I "tested" with an ovulation dip stick because I only had one pregnancy test and I didn't want to waste it. It showed a positive almost immediately and I sent a slightly hysterical email to Danielle. At this point I still wasn't 100% sure and so I didn't say anything to Ray until the following Monday, when we saw the "real" positive together.
I was officially pregnant for 9 weeks and 3 days but poor Little Poppet's tiny heart kept it's rhythm for about two short weeks, beginning at 6 and stopping at around 8 weeks. I wish I'd seen it beating and felt that surge of hope, even though it ended in our broken hearts being broken again. Did you see the cloud rainbow s/he sent us?
Today the prospect of parenthood seems further away than ever and I can't even picture it any more. Hope seems almost like a foreign emotion.
But I can't bring myself to give up.
There's still a little hope buried in here somewhere.