Just another record of my crazy.

**Disclaimer:  This shit is TOP SECRET, yo.  Well, as Top Secret as it can be when it's posted on the internet.  I can't not blog about this life-changer, but if you know me in real life, please don't share the news - I can't bear to have to make those phone calls or announcements again if things don't end well.

I started this post yesterday morning, then got side-tracked by shiny things and didn't finish it.  But what I was trying to say, it's sort of a big part of where my head is right now, so even if it's a day late, here ya go:

I should be doing laundry, but we've got all day for that, right?  It's Sunday, there's plenty of time for chores later.

We're in the middle of a record-setting heat-wave here in Kentucky.  We've passed hot and reached "Just don't go outside" temperatures.  I took Finn for a walk in the park this morning at 8, early enough to beat the heat, I thought, but I still found myself sweaty and tired by the time we reached our half-way mark.  Of course, I'm extra sweaty these days anyhow, and I'm always tired it seems, so maybe that had more to do with me than the weather.  Either way, I think now I'm in for the day.  I'm not a fan of hot.

I don't want to talk to anyone or see anyone or do anything.  I want to sit in my house and be safe until I know that everything's going to be okay, and then maybe I'll come out to play.  I sat in the living room Tuesday night and talked baby talk all night long...and the next morning, our friend went for a checkup and they couldn't find her baby's heartbeat.  I'm so fucking sad for her, for them.  And not that it has anything to do with me, cause I know it doesn't, but I can't help but go right back to that place where she is now, and it reminds me of how fragile and unguaranteed this whole deal is.  I've made it further than last time, but she was even further than me, and look.  See?  Anything can happen.  You just never know.  And every time I say the words out loud, or talk about the future, I'm that much more emotionally invested, and I'm just so scared to be too emotionally invested right now.

I want to say that this feels different, that it feels right.  I imagine, though, that every expectant mother feels that way.  I don't think anyone says, "Oh, this one probably isn't going to work out.  It just feels like it's probably going to end."  I think every miscarriage is a surprise of the worst sort, so I can't even follow my instinctual feeling of "every little thing, gonna be alright".