Being pregnant has made so many old memories fresh again. I dream about some thing that happened or some member of my family I never see anymore weekly, if not nightly. Mostly it does not rattle me too badly, but it does make me thoughtful and sometimes sad. During the day it stays on my mind and I have told P many little stories over the last couple of months, stories I've never told anyone. It is good to get them out, and P takes it in stride. He's learned to listen and nod and say "That's weird" or "That's fucked up" and then let it go. And I nod too, and keep folding the sheets, because that is all I needed from him. On their own, these anecdotes in a normal family might only make you wrinkle your nose or shake your head, but all together, and combined with the deeper tragedies behind them, it is rather terrible to think about. I am thankful to have someone to be with me in it and also help me push past and through. I did it by myself for so long.
Our anatomy scan is scheduled for September 20th. If we find out it's a girl, I've decided to get into counseling again right away. If it's a boy, I may wait and see how it goes. Either way I'll have a support team on standby after the birth. I am at a million percent risk for postpartum depression, and I am not willing to put myself, P, or the baby through any more of that than I can help.