She's here!

Oh happy day!  O happy day!  Yes, that is the chant I was singing this morning.  I woke a bit earlier than normal, took my temp and noticed a drop from 97.7 to 97.3.  Dramatic, seriously.  And then, there she was that elusive period!  Sorry if this is too much information, but I honestly am so excited and relieved.  

I'll admit it, I cried. 

Since the miscarriage and the waiting, I did assume the worst. My mind quickly and easily went to that place.  I imagined the worst.  In many ways, it is easier to imagine the worst so when you get the good news, you truly are relieved.  Certainly it must be better than assuming the best to find out the worst?  Brett, in many ways, is a quiet optimist.  He just doesn’t let his mind go to those dark places that mine can go.  Maybe it is because I have quite literally already been there.  I’ve seen the landscape, know the terrain.  

To be honest, I have a hard time trusting that my body can do what it's supposed to do.  I blame that on cancer.  When I was 29, I was diagnosed with breast cancer and in hindsight, I had never felt so betrayed by the universe and my body.   When I came out, not unscathed (a mastectomy, 6 months of chemotherapy, and 5 weeks of radiation) but at least free and clear of cancer, I did not know how to feel about my body.  I still don’t.  It is truly a mystery and despite what most doctors would have us believe, it is a mystery to them, too.   I haven’t called my doctor to give her the good news yet, but I know she will be relieved and excited.  She was my 2^nd opinion when I thought that perhaps there was something going on before I had cancer.  She had pushed me to have a biopsy.  She has said, it is her mission to get me knocked up and I believe her.  She and I have been through a lot together, as far as patients and doctors go.

When I was diagnosed with cancer, my friend and colleague Barb gave me a Saint Peregrine coin.  I carry it with me to this day.  When I was married and moved to China, she gave me a Saint Christopher painting.  When I posted this blog for the first time, she told me about St. Gerard, patron saint of Motherhood.  I’m not a religious person, but most of my family is Catholic.  I didn’t grow up in the religion, but I do feel a connection to it in the sense that it is part of my family’s story.  And with that, comes a fascination with saints.  I find comfort thinking that there is someone looking out for us, willing to advocate for us, helping to see our dreams come true.  People who lived good lives, devoted themselves to others and even in the ‘afterlife’ still have duties.  There is something sweet and selfless in that and it is comforting, especially when we find ourselves in dark places.  I have thought about St. Gerard since Barb mentioned him. 

Today, I finally feel a sense of closure and for the first time in a long while, hope and joy about where we go from here.