Conceptually I realize I am pregnant, two babies are seemingly well inside me, and if born will likely do well, barring the freak accident. Conceptually, I prepare things like a nursery, carseats, FMLA paperwork, in anticipation of their arrival.
But I still find myself unable to completely process myself in a situation where babies come home with me next week. I do not talk or sing to them. I do not refer to them by name. I do not allow any excitement or belief to creep in.
I fucking hate how miscarriage and infertility have made me this way. I was already an anxious person before all this happened, and now it is even worse. I do not share this with people because they say it will be fine blah blah blah. Guess what? You do not fucking know that. LOTS of things could still go wrong. Especially because my body does not have a good track record with regard to fertility matters.
There is not much else to write.