14 Weeks.

Last night I had a dream. In it, I had just finished my IVF cycle, and somehow I knew it had not worked. How I knew, I don’t know, but I knew, in that horrible, sinking, pit-of-your-stomach way. I was trying to decide whether to take a pregnancy test, and when I woke up, I lay there thinking about the box of First Response in my bathroom, wondering whether I wanted to see that blank white space, or postpone the misery for one more day. It took me a good five minutes to fully shake off the dream and remember that the cycle worked. That I am pregnant with two real babies, both of whose heartbeats I heard just last night. When I did remember, I felt first sick with relief and then giddy as I looked down at the very physical evidence of my great good fortune.

And then I got up, and decided it was time to make Scott take a picture:
14weeks