luck, bloody luck.

It’s two shot night tonight. 1 estrogen, 1 progesterone, to support the pregnancy. Bob gives me a shot every day. But today, first he buys me chamomile tea and rubs my belly. Today I’m worried again; my confidence was short-lived.

After work I went to my favorite bookstores to sell a bag of a dozen books (we’re starting to clean out the shelves a bit). After the traipsing, I began to bleed again -- just in front of our home, just like Saturday. Bad cramps, more bleeding, cold body, nervous spirit. This is so challenging. So scary. Because we don’t know. It could be fine, it could mean another miscarriage. “Common but always worrisome,” is what the doctor said earlier this week about the first round of spotting. But now it’s definately worse. I try not to cry. I try to have faith. I will get up in the morning and go to work like everything’s fine. I look at the 4-leaf clover my dearest friend found for me, my golden good luck charm. I feel her love, and I feel the love of the friends around me who we’ve shared this early news with. Please, please let it be alright. Please, a normal pregnancy. Just this once. We’ve paid our dues, we’ve paid our money, we’ve opened our hearts, we’ve hoped, we’ve let go, we’ve hoped again. Hope, luck, faith, love. And science. But perhaps this is about destiny...