9 weeks, 3 days

That's right, I am nine weeks and three days pregnant! That means that in seven months (Nov. 18, to be specific) we will have a brand new addition to our happy family. We are all very excited.

I told Layla about the baby at my last doctor's appointment because she kept asking if I was sick, specifically if my bee-bo (belly button) was sick, since that is what the doctor was checking. I explained that there was a baby growing in my belly, and that it would eventually come out and join our family, but not for a long, long time. Now at the doctor she tells everyone, "Baby mommy's belly, not long, long time," and shakes her hands from side to side as if to illustrate just how long of a time it will be. All of the nurses and aides think it's hilarious, and ask her to repeat it several times, which she thinks is great because she gets loads of attention. She does get concerned when I have to have blood drawn, and stands next to me to reassure me by saying, "Mommy little boo-boo and band-aid, then mommy all better!" She is very sweet.

So far I have had three appointments and one ultra-sound and everything looks great. I even got to hear the baby's heartbeat at about seven weeks and it was healthy and strong! My doctors said that I could keep excersizing and running, and cleared me to run the Wasatch Back Relay in June as long as I feel up to it.

I feel great about this pregnancy. I was worried that after my late miscarriage I would be very nervous, and my doctors keep telling me that it's normal if I feel that way, but I don't, not at all. I'm not bracing myself for something bad to happen. I'm counting on a normal, healthy pregnancy and a beautiful baby. If something goes wrong, I will handle it just as I did the last time, but I can't function on a daily basis worrying about what might happen.

I operate the same way with most things in my life. I always recognize that there are bad things that can happen, and I often think of them in terms of what I might do if the situation arises, but I never actually worry that it will happen. It seems like there isn't much distinction between the two, but there really is. For instance, when I run alone, I often concoct scenarios in which I am endangered, either by an attacker, a dog, a snakebite, or some other foe. I go through step-by-step what I would do, how I would get away or get help, and I usually like to have at least one back-up plan in case the first one is foiled. I've spent seven or eight miles thinking of things like this before, but never once have I been afraid that any of this would happen. I just like to be prepared.