A Christmas Miracle.

My mother listened.

Whatever it was that I said to my mother last weekend must have sank in, because she actually made Christmas be the way it was meant to be: Family, food, and functional. :) Thing is, of the presents she gave, yeah, most of them were bottom of the closet specials. I didn't expect more, since they really didn't have time to shop considering they were moving. What was surprising was the amount of work she did to clean the house, put up the lights, put up the tree, and cook dinner. But the best part of all was that when I mentioned the night before (on Christmas itself, not the day we gave presents) that I didn't have the blanket my aunt gave me when I was five, and she thought I did, she apparently searched high and low all over the place... And found it. So the best present of all was one she didn't spend a dime on. Fun was had, and my niece got a merry first christmas.

I'll admit though, it was upsetting to realize that it was supposed to be my first christmas pregnant... and wasn't. Or maybe it was, that's part of the problem. I'm not sure, I think I may be pregnant again (not that this would be a surprise, since we *were* trying, but I'm in the "two week wait" where you have no idea if you could be or not). I do know I was upset and crying on the morning of "our Christmas", and I was moody most of the day. I also know my temperatures have been consistent with a "likely triphasic pattern", and CM has been relatively still wet. But my breasts aren't sore. But I've been crampy. But, but, but... *sigh* I cried on the morning after Christmas. I tried saying something to my father, but he doesn't want to hear anything right now... It's almost like it's harder for him to know about it than it was for me, and that hurts. Just when I want him the most, he can't deal with it. Three times in the last few weeks I've tried to talk about it, and he changes the conversation to something else.

I don't know why, I've taken to calling her Emma Grace in my mind, even if no-one else ever realizes she was there. To an extent it makes it easier on me to know she *was* someone, rather than some amorphous "it". She wasn't nothing.

I'm full of trepidation over the idea I could be pregnant again, though. I'm almost afraid of it. It means it could work this time... or it might not. I don't know how much I could deal with it if I had to go through this again.

I'm full of hope for the new year... And fear, all at the same time.

Please, I want my child to be healthy. I want to be able to know my child, I want to be able to hold her... I want to know my child will be all right, and right now it's just a waiting game. First it's a waiting game to see if another child even exists, then it's a waiting game to see if there's any development, then to see if there's any problems...

I just want my child to live.