pulling out the fine stationery

Dear Body,

Thank you, thank you, thank you for processing the nasty glucose drink in a normal manner. I nearly cried when I heard those wonderful words: All tests came back completely normal. Your reward will be coming in the form of yummy-licious, home-made Christmas cookies once we arrive at Mom and Dad's house on Wednesday, and maybe even some stocking candy to boot. Not too much, of course. We don't want to get overly confident in the wake of our good news, do we?

The real purpose of this letter is that I owe you an apology. I should have given you the benefit of the doubt, or at least taken an "innocent until proven guilty" approach, but I didn't. As soon as I got the results of my one-hour test last Tuesday, I concluded that you were bad at processing sugar just like you were bad at making babies* and - I'll admit it - I was pissed. I am truly sorry for not having faith in you, especially since you've been such a champ since we took our first steps down the road to IVF.

I hereby promise to do a better job in the future. I will take this experience as the wake-up call that it is and I will fill you with healthy foods that make your job easier instead of harder. More importantly, I am going to consciously remind myself of all the wonderful things you do for me and the baby on a daily basis. You've been amazingly resilient and adaptive. I am also going to treat us both to a hypno.birthing class because I believe not only that you can and will carry this baby to term, but also that you have the strength and the wisdom to bring him or her into the world on your own terms. I will continue to believe these things until proven otherwise, not just until I start to suspect a problem. And if circumstances arise that take us away from an unmedicated birth, then I promise to be okay with that too, or at least to try really, really try hard to be.

In closing, I want to apologize again for giving up on you so easily. I truly appreciate all you have done and will continue to do, and I'm genuinely humbled by how far we have come together.

(Hersh.ey) kisses,
K

*I know, I know. It's unfair of me to bring this up now - rehashing old issues and all that - but it's part of our shared history and we can't pretend I don't have trust issues as a result.