I haven’t posted in a long time.

It’s not because I didn’t have things to write about. Oh boy, do I have things to write about.

It’s not because I didn’t have time, although that does play a huge role.

It’s because I didn’t post about something very big that happened in September, and posting about anything else before I posted about that thing seemed very strange. Except when I went to write about the thing that happened in September, it seemed awkward to have not written about it yet, so then I didn’t.

It occurred to me recently that if I was going to be able to use this blog again, ever, I was going to have to just write and be done with it. So here I am, writing.

This thing that happened in September, it happened right after my last post. It happened just about 30 weeks ago. It happened when a chemical reaction occurred on a small piece of paper and popped up with two little lines.

BWB and I are expecting our son to make his debut at the end of May.

I wish I had been able to make that post in September that I tried to write, to explain the rush of emotions. I wish that I had managed to get that one out so that I could have told you about my fear of losing the pregnancy, of knowing too much because of my medical degree, of going to the first and second (and third, and fourth…) ultrasounds having steeled myself for hearing that there was no heartbeat. I wish I had gotten my act together to write a first trimester “stuff I learned” back when I remembered all of the stuff I learned and before I forgot all of it. I really wish I had been coherent enough to express my utter shock when I found out that I was not, in fact, having the girl I just knew I was expecting.

Some of these things, I can try to write retrospectively, and I will. However, I think the important thing here is that I made this post and I can start writing again without quite so much consternation. We’re three quarters of the way through the pregnancy, but barely just beginning the journey.

Of course, he likes to chime in when I’m at the computer, kicking me to convey his opinion of what I’m working on. My tiny editor will probably enforce brevity to some extent, but then I’m pretty sure that’s what a good editor does. He’s so clever. Already.

I’m so smitten. Already.