Tomorrow morning

Okay, it's been about 9 months of trying and I'm hoping that tomorrow will be the day I find out that I'm pregnant.  Timing was perfect this month, with our last attempt to conceive at 2 1/2 days before ovulation, so I'm feeling good about my chances.

When you're trying to get pregnant, it's so easy to try to interpret every twinge and irregularity in your body as a signal of conception.  My stomach has been a little odd the last few days,  I had a little cramping yesterday and I saw a little pink that may have been implantation bleeding 3 days ago.  But all of that might have been nothing, too.

I meditate on conceiving my daughter most of the month, right before bedtime.  I close my eyes, with my hands over my lower belly, and envision my womb as a nursery, being decorated and prepared for her.  When I'm not successful and I'm having my period, I picture each cramp as a "cleaning out" of my uterus, making room for baby.  Then, after I know I've ovulated, I concentrate on inviting my daughter to come and join our family.  I tell her that we're all waiting for her, and that she is wanted more than she'll ever know.

I sleep with a fertility charm under the mattress.  Sometimes I wonder if I'm a little obsessed, but then I think about how much I freaked out about conceiving my son as fast as possible.  Compared to that experience, this one is relaxed and casual.  Sure, there's disappointment when I pee on the stick and it confirms that this month isn't the one, but I don't cry about it.  I don't panic or get depressed.  I just shrug and think about how next month I'll try again, with renewed hope.

Little girl of mine, your brother has been asking about you.  He wants to know where you are.  I've told him that your father and I are trying to bring you here as fast as we can, but in the end, you'll arrive when you're ready.  We're ready for you.  We think about you a lot, and I hope I'll get a message from you that you'll be coming tomorrow.