So I am pregnant. It was interesting that one of the first thoughts I had after learning that the embryo implanted was that this is my third pregnancy. Up until recently, I kept thinking, do I count my very first, chemical pregnancy? After all, it was only a week, and had I not been doing fertility treatments, I wouldn't have even thought anything of it, just a very heavy, slightly late period. And what about the other time when the embryos just didn't implant? Some people consider pregnancy to start with conception, at least natural pregnancy. I once had an argument with a lady who claimed a petri dish was pregnant with IVF-conceived kids, until they were transferred into their mother's womb. I did a lot of eye rolling during that argument. Just because I was aware of there having been a couple of embryos in my womb for 10 days before learning that they didn't implant doesn't mean I was pregnant with them. Yes, I lost those embryos, but I lost an embryo this last cycle too, in the thawing process. I was no more pregnant with this one than with the others. I guess I think of pregnancy as a give-and-take. The kid's got to show an interest and effort in sticking around!
At any rate, I am remaining tentative as I wait for next week's ultrasound to confirm that all is going according to plan. I've already shared the news with a few close folks, much sooner than I did with our daughter. I think I'm just more resigned to the alternative, and I feel bad about that. I desperately wanted each of the first three FETs to work because it meant the difference between being a mom and not being a mom. This time, I'm a mom no matter what, and I'm not looking forward to doing the whole childbirth and newborn thing again. But what I am looking forward to is our entire lives after these next two years. When my kids can bond and grow close and share something neither I nor their dad can give them, and that's a genetic relative and someone who knows what it's like to not know one's genetic ancestors.
I keep feeling bad about not being as excited about this new baby, but if I'm being honest, I didn't bond with Maya either, until a while after birth. But once I did, oh boy! She's the center of my universe! So I know it'll be the same with the new guy. Of course, I also realize that no child, no person ought to be the center of my universe. That only if I center my life on God will I experience an authentically rewarding life. And I'm working on that.
As I become reacquainted with my faith again, I continue to be amazed at how God used this second baby to turn me back to Him. I still have thoughts of doubt, but I remind myself that my faith isn't cut and dry. I don't believe verbatim what my religion teaches. I believe there is truth to be found in it, but I believe it requires discernment.
On a related thought, I've also thought about how I've been guilty of exoticising groups I don't belong to, both cultural and religious. I'm trying to look at my own religious heritage with fresh eyes, and not as if only other religions can hold my attention.
We close on our house this week. We start moving this week. By the end of next month, my parents may already be moving in with us. Life will never be the same again. But then again, that's how you know you're living. Life is not about standing in place, but about change. That's why it's so important to try to live in the moment. Appreciate each moment as it comes, but don't place too much importance on it, because it, too, shall eventually pass. Only God remains the same. Only the promises we have in Christ. And I say Christ not from an exclusionary perspective, as in non-Christians don't have access to these promises. That's just the way I am choosing to make sense of the world around me.