Sometimes, for brief moments, I find myself doing the math. How many weeks would I be today?

We’d be finding out the gender this week.

In my closet hangs a dress I bought early in the pregnancy because I knew the cotton fabric would stretch well around my belly. I put it on. I look in the mirror. I hang it back up.

I overloaded on sugar last week. I wasn’t supposed to have sugar on my birthday; I’d already failed my gestational diabetes test.

I guess this is how it’s going to be. The realizations, the disappointment…it’s going to creep up on me.

Most of the time, I really am doing okay. But then I find myself doing math, or running fabric through my fingers, or looking at my stomach…

…and in those brief moments, I’m not okay.