I want to be so excited that we've hit the big 12 week mark, but I'm scared. I keep day dreaming of a world where all babies are born, alive and healthy. A good friend lost her baby this winter right after she announced it...at 12 weeks. And really, WTF is 12 weeks anyway? I mean I was 25 weeks 6 days with Wyatt. And I know from reading everyone else's blogs that really as the weeks tick by, we're not any safer. I mean the chances are so low to begin with and yet it still happened. I'm dreaming of the beautiful ignorant bliss that I felt when I was pregnant with Wyatt. I was nervous, but the passing of the weeks made me feel safer. I know this is my reality and don't get me wrong I am so so so happy to be pregnant, but I am so scared. And I know I won't be okay until this baby is born, healthy and alive.
I know that Wyatt is watching over us, he's my little angel boy. So, for now I'm taking a deep breath and dreaming of holding Wyatt's brother or sister, listening to them cry their first cry, looking into those and telling them about their brother.