All dressed up.

It’s been nearly eight months since that January night when we first decided to give baby-making a go, seven months since we started this blog in the hopes of surprising our family and friends with our pregnancy story, seven months since we first started charting my cycles and timing our “baby dance,” seven months since I checked out every pregnancy-related piece of literature at our local free library and read each cover to cover, six months since I ordered a dress two sizes too big because I was convinced I’d require roomier wears come my baby sister’s nuptials this summer, five months since I slipped into that dress in front a full-length mirror and mentally filled out its silky, chocolate brown layers, two months since I first thought “hmm,” a month since I chatted with my OB-GYN about the likelihood that there’s something amiss, a month since she told me to come back in the fall if I still hadn’t managed to get knocked up, a month since I caved and had that two-sizes-too-big dress sized to fit, three weeks since I slipped into the dress in front of a full-length mirror and didn’t have to fill out its silky, chocolate brown layers since they were perfectly contoured to a 105-pound frame, two weeks until I get to wear it to my baby sister’s nuptials.

Once upon a time, I expected The Projected Progenitor would be a sneak-peak into early pregnancy; I couldn’t have foreseen that it would, instead, see us grappling with infertility, anxious that – if it comes down to it – we might not be able to afford the oft’ super-spendy treatments required to correct it (if, of course, it can be corrected at all). So where I didn’t expect it to go, it has. And while I never expected it to go where it’s going, it will.

This dress thing is a big deal. It represents something I’m not. Which is to say, pregnant.
And it represents something else, too. It represents how far I’ve come, how far we’ve come, where we’re going. It stands for: Please-For-The-Love-of-All-Things-Sacred-May-This-Be-The-Last-Time-I-Fit-Into-a-Dress-This-Size. It stands for acceptance. It stands for finally embracing The Wisdom of Woody Allen: If you want to make G-d laugh, tell Him about your plans.

I have a better idea.

Dear G-d, how’s about you tell me yours?
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About Projected Progenitor

Projected (adj.) (prə-ˈjekt-ed): From the 15th Century Anglo-French 'projector,' from Latin 'projectus.' Devised in the mind, predicted. Progenitor (n.) (prō-ˈje-nə-tər): Middle English, from the 14th Century Anglo-French 'progenitour,' from Latin 'progenitor,' meaning 'to beget.' An ancestor in the direct line, foreparent.
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