One Week Gone

Waking up this morning I thought about how far I was from the version of me that woke up one week ago. Excited about my ultrasound. Wondering if I was going to have to tell early because I already looked like I’d swallowed some sort of sport ball. Volleyball maybe? Stoked to graduate from my RE and my drugs. Prepared to meet my OB later in the week and give up the security of the bi-weekly ultrasounds of the RE’s clinic. Curious to see how Olive had grown since we’d seen the heartbeat on the previous ultrasound. Wondering whether the day had come to accept the maternity pants or to keep on squeezing into the no-chance-I-could-button-these-jeans.
This morning I squeezed into the new jeans I bought because every piece of maternity clothing I own is boxed up and headed for storage and I still can’t do up the jeans I couldn’t do up last week. I slowly dragged myself though the process of getting ready for work. I drank tea, cuddled my little boy a little harder than he’d like, went through the motions. Did my best. Packed my purse with Kle.enex. Wished I was the me who woke up one week ago today and that everything had turned out differently. That Olive was one week bigger and not one week gone.
That I was still a me who didn’t know what it was like to be the me I was this morning.

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