My last post was over three months ago. Something I truly apologize for. I was getting such amazing feedback from readers and was really enjoying myself. Then I leave you faster than a carnival performer trying to outrun the law. A lot has been happening in my life the last few months personally and housewife wise.

Tim and I bought our house in March and in April we decided to really start trying to get pregnant. Track everything, I would eat better, cut down on alcohol, the whole fertility dance (I’m pretty sure I tried a fertility dance at some point). For as long as I can remember I’ve wanted to be a mom. To say I love kids and the spirit that is kids is an understatement. Me and kids always find each other at parties and we always hit it off. My cousin called me the baby whisperer because her daughter would only sleep for me at family gatherings for about a year. Needless to say, offspring was always in the plan for me.

I thought it would be so easy. We would be that couple that said within the month of trying we got pregnant. That was not the case. April went by, May, June and nothing. We were discouraged because one month in trying to conceive time feels to be about six months. The beginning of July came and with it a positive pregnancy test. We were beyond excited. I was crying, Tim teared up and it was a perfect moment. I called the doctor and I started planning everything in my head. Three days later on July 4th we had the first true heart break in our relationship. We had an early miscarriage called a chemical pregnancy.

It was beyond devastating. I didn’t understand. I cursed out every unknown being in the universe. I felt so betrayed by my own body. I wanted to take out my uterus for a while as to say, “We need a break.” I felt like a failure as a woman, a wife, and a human. I have one job and I couldn’t do it. I went to my doctor and talked about the next steps. My doc said, “Amy, you are healthy. You are in a loving relationship. You are still young. I have no doubt I will see you in the next four to six months for prenatal appointments.” I rolled my eyes and went on home.

For the next month or so I went into a slight depression. I didn’t want to do anything. I didn’t want to clean, I didn’t want to shower, I didn’t want to be a housewife. I didn’t want this life anymore. I lived on the couch. Crying and crying. It felt like the universe was telling me that I may be good with kids but that didn’t mean I deserved kids of my own. Tim tried to be patient, friends tried to be understanding, family tried to find the right words. None of it worked.

I slowly worked my way out. I started cleaning, running errands, and bathing. It was fantastic and life affirming. Before I knew it the universe let me know that I did deserve kids. At the end of August I woke up early one morning took out a pregnancy test and shook for three minutes straight. I saw the word “Positive” for the second time in two months. I went upstairs to wake up Tim and tell him the great news. Unfortunately, I let the fear take over and I was more worried and terrified than anything else. What if it was another chemical pregnancy? What if I got further along and had a miscarriage? What if? What if? What ifs were controlling my every thought.

A few weeks went by and I had my first prenatal appointment. Talking to a nurse about how to be a good preggers lady. Another week and we saw our baby’s heart beat. Another month and we heard our baby’s heart beat. Every milestone was a sigh of relief, another weight off our shoulders, and a widening of smiles. After the first trimester we realized this was happening.

It’s been four and a half months and everyday I thank those unknown beings that I cursed out months ago. Everyday I kiss my husband and fall more in love when he gently rubs my growing belly. Everyday I look forward to what new challenges are brought in front of me. Now. If I were to sit here and say it has all been lollipops and unicorns in green fields with peppermint waterfalls, well, let’s just say that unicorn would die from the lies. That’s for another day and another post. Pregnancy is hard, people. Like. Hard.

Again, I’m so sorry for leaving you all. I am thankful for every single person who for a second thought what I had to say was worth something. I am going to try to get back into it. I’ll incorporate my housewife life into my preggo lady life. Hopefully we’ll get through this together. In about four and a half months my whole life will be devoted to a new little one. Let’s see where this roller coaster takes me!