warm fuzzies

Do you ever wake up with the warm fuzzies, feeling good before your day even begins? I did today. It's really nice to know that this can happen even in the midst of great sadness.

It's gorgeous outside this morning. I'm watching the French Open (aka pong). Earlier Lilly came to our bed for a morning snuggle, and for the first time ever got in on my side for a cuddle instead of Brian's side. Sweet! Also yesterday I heard that a fellow babyloss mama is pregnant again - hurrah for hope!

And this is the 3rd day in a row that I've felt like I want to go to the beach. In that 20% chance of rain sense of things. This is unusual for me. My feelings on whether to try again change daily, hourly, minutely. Often the idea of putting us all through the anxiety seems like lunacy. Often I just don't want to think about it.

From early on I've felt that my baby cravings were powerfully fueled by hormones, by a desperate longing to have Angel Mae back inside my body. I've known to just breathe through them, to let them ride. And Brian's been on task to not let me do anything dumb ("Oh you don't need that condom, honey.").

These last few days something different has been going on. On Tuesday I had a job interview. Interestingly little nonprofit. Nice people. Great mission. Half-time work. A step up in responsibility. It's great on paper, and if my career was one I really wanted, rather than one I had backed into, I'd be excited. But instead the interview left me a) exhausted and b) asking myself, "What's next? What's really next for me? If Angel Mae is gone, what's next?" The only answer I got back - from God, from nature, from intuition, from my body, from wherever - was "Baby. Baby is what's next. Saddle up."

It could be the hormones talking to me again. My body may still be confused. Baby was going to be next. I was going to be 7 months pregnant right now. Everything in my life was trending towards mommyhood. Was, was, was, and maybe my body hasn't fully gotten the message. This could be a hangover, not intuition.

But this morning is Day 3 of hearing that message. Of feeling warm fuzzies in my belly at the thought of pregnancy and of meeting a new little one. Of feeling that yes, of course it will work, of course we will have a healthy, living child (though there is no of course about it.)

I used to trust these intuitive warm fuzzies to point me in good directions. It's harder now. The ground has shifted. I am still a mess of hormones and grief, even on warm, fuzzy days, even though I can handle a job interview. I know I could wake up feeling differently tomorrow. So no decisions. Just breathe. Enjoy the fuzzies. Keep all the doors open. Hug Lilly. Send resumes. Use condoms.