More about my shopping trip

I went shopping with my mother at a maternity shop on Saturday. I can't deal with shopping normally and maternity shopping I don't find all that fun. I work with a lot of guys and then there's our complicated history -- so its not like I'm dying to share the news. So while I'm there, looking for things that will help me out over the next couple of months at least, I ran into someone I know who had previously, quite adamantly told me she never wanted kids. She was 20 weeks along. She tried for a year and then got assistance she said -- probably clomid or something. I mentioned that I hadn't told anyone (outside of the people I told early on) and then elaborated that after 4 years of trying and two miscarriages (not to mention, which I didn't, the fibroid surgery and vasectomy reversal) it wasn't something that felt like an easy thing for me. I said it loud enough and I swear everyone in that boutique got quiet for a second and the clerk looked at me. Yes, I said the bad word in a maternity shop. Miscarriage. Miscarriage. Miscarriage. Miscarriage. Miscarriage. Miscarriage. Miscarriage. Miscarriage.

It still feels all unreal and tenuous for me. I know I have no control over it, I just have to go along for the ride. It's weird to think that there's something inside of me -- but then I have my next OB appt tomorrow and I worry that something won't be right. And then when I think about February and having to take care of the creature that comes from within me -- all the time(!) I think that maybe I had no business getting pg in the first place. Sigh.