October. It happened in October. I didn't know it happened in October until November. There I was, one November morning staring blankly at what I, myself, had already known deep down. There were two lines. Two pink lines shouting those two words at me. It was like someone let off a fog horn in my head. "You're pregnant."
This wasn't supposed to happen this month. How did it happen? I was sick and on a handful of different medications for just about everything. I was even warned not to do what we did. This was not supposed to happen this month. What about the miscarriage from June? Was it too soon to get pregnant again? Will I lose this one too? What are we going to do?
The simple answer? Keep it a secret. At that point, I wasn't sure exactly how long I'd keep it a secret. 8 weeks? 10 weeks? 12 weeks? Or maybe 14 weeks when the risk of miscarriage drops tremendously? Then I thought, should I tell the family at Thanksgiving? Christmas? Birthdays? So many questions..and I was the only one who could ultimately decide. I decided once we knew the sex we would announce it. That seemed like a decent amount of time, right?
So far this pregnancy had been nothing but easy. Too easy. So easy that I fear that something is wrong because it's so easy. No morning sickness, very little horrible symptoms... If it wasn't for the random kicks and movements, I wouldn't believe I was pregnant.
The main thing that has been stressing me out is the fact that Quinton has gotten out of the Navy. Another thing I kept to myself. It's hard enough going from military to civilian life, but sometimes it feels harder with the insane amount of hormones surging through out my body as well.
So, as I turn the page on to a new chapter of our life, I am scared of what may come, but excited about the future as well. Things are definitely changing and hopefully it will be more good than bad. At least at the end of the day, I have an awesome husband, an amazing son, and a gorgeous little girl kicking away in my belly.
<3
