Still hanging in there ...

There really isn't much going on. I'm finding that, although it is fun and somewhat reassuring (in the absence of an anatomy scan) to watch my belly grow, I still have trouble believing there's anything inside it. We don't seem to be people who talk to -- or even much about -- "the baby." Maybe that comes later. Like in September.

There have been a few little fluttery motions, but given some of the other effects of pregnancy, I'm hesitant to attribute them to anything but gas until they feel more like a right hook than a butterfly.

One week later

The absolute, complete, utter, and perhaps naive shock is starting to wear off. Last week's visit to the doctor is still the first thing I think of when I wake up, but it's ceased feeling like a punch to the gut so much as a chest-tightening, "oh ... right" as the memory returns.

I keep finding myself sitting still for too long, living too much inside my head while the dishes pile up in the sink and the laundry remains half done. Our house is still a mess from the drywall, which needs one more day of work to be finished. There's stuff everywhere because we've no place to put it when it can't go where it belongs, and each time I look around I worry about having spent the money on repairs.

We can't bankrupt ourselves to get a baby, but at this point, every option is expensive: IVF, donor eggs, adoption. Among other belt-tightening measures, SF and I have challenged ourselves not to go to any restaurants until May 1, to help both budget and waistlines, but it all feels a little bit like pishin in the ocean.