A weight's been lifted off my shoulders this week, after I finally plucked up the courage to send a very important email to my bosses.
So here it is, officially.
WE'RE PREGNANT AGAIN!
Going by last Friday's ultrasound, I'm about 9+ weeks now, and in the throes of first trimester fatigue and general lack of appetite.
Which means having to prepare lunch and dinner without the least inclination to ingest any of it. Which then means that the food generally turns out to be pretty tasteless, so pity the boys, won't you?
We're absolutely thrilled, of course. Watching the tiny grey blob on the ultrasound screen pulsating at 167 beats a minute, I can't help but draw in my breath and utter a silent prayer of thanksgiving to God.
But what's surprised me more this second time round, is feeling somewhat clouded by a number of worries stemming from the uncertainties and questions of having number 2, some immediate, some mid-term.
Do we have the baby here, or back in Singapore?
Where will we put up, with E having to complete another 3 years here?
How will I manage with 2 kids and a full time job?
How would the bosses take the news? How will my fellow reading colleagues take to being shorthanded for longer than expected?
Is D ready for a sibling?
The list goes on.
At a time when we have all the reasons to rejoice and celebrate, I'm a little disappointed in myself for feeling this way, frankly.
The fact remains that millions and millions of parents have gone through this, and we're not in circumstances any more unique to theirs, so what makes these worries more worthy of my time?
We'll take it a step at a time, keeping the faith. There's so much to enjoy right now, and perhaps even more reason to enjoy Dylan while he's still dancing solo in our lives!
Perhaps, more vitally, I need to remind myself that this burden is not my own - and that Someone is carrying it for me, keeping the little one inside safe and growing, knowing what's ahead when I don't, and preparing me to take those necessary steps to become a mother of 2.