Life is interesting. Wow, the understatement! It makes it sound like a stroll through a museum with an academic curiosity, seeing curios and items of value or scientific interest. Life is nothing so tame as a stroll. It is a whirlwind, and, in my case, usually a distressing tornado or events that catipults you from event to event with never a breath or rest. It is emotional and often quite traumatic, intersperced with dabs of joy to allow survival.

Since my last miscarriage, I have been waiting to miscarry this time. I know it is a bad habit, and I have come to expect it. Each pregnancy I spend my time thinking, "How can I improve next time?" It is the only thing that keeps me sane. The thought that I can move forward, and that even though I will lose another baby (or more) next time, next time, next time. My mantra.

It's sad really. I really don't enjoy the moment. Oh, that isn't to say that I never have. I do remember a delicious day in December of '02 that I just reveled in the feeling of the otherness inside of me. It was a wonderful day. I knew I would miscarry, but the miscarriage before I had railed at my child telling it to leave sooner rather than later, screaming mentally about the pain that the loss would cause me. When I lost that baby at 10 weeks I felt so incredibly guilty that I couldn't stand it. I realized then that each time was a gift and I needed to treasure it. Too bad I didn't remember it after all the pain of the past few years.

As I started to say, I miscarried in March. The miscarriage in February was the one that gave me the proof of the superfetation with the two distinct placentas of different ages. In March I took a female formula that I realize now can actually act as birth control (which can cause miscarriages.) Well, in April I conceived. No surprises there. I rather enjoy the physical side of my relationship with my husband. What is more, I think he enjoys me too.

Well, in late April I started having pregnancy symptoms. They were a tad spotty. Not as solid as I would have liked, and faded much more quickly than they did with Tatiana. (Of course with her, I had so many drugs and hormones in my system that I threw up the entire nine months.) Well, I figured that this time, like so many others, I would miscarry. I waited. Each day I expected the bleeding to start. In early June I felt impressed to do a minor cleanse with some more female formula and brain formula. Again, I waited.

In late June I felt some odd cramps. No, actually they felt more like contractions. Ok, that was fine with me. I have had more than one miscarriage that felt like full transitional labor. I could go forward. I continued to check. I wondered if things had gone far enough that I would actually have a water break like happened in February. More contractions on occasion in July. I started taking raspberry. Hey it is good for everything female, so why not?

I waited. Meanwhile, starting in June, every aspect of my life started falling apart. The leader of our congregation said some cruel things to me that sounded like he was condemning me (and in the name of GOD!) I think I understand better why this happened, and what I can learn from it, but for a couple of weeks I turned my face to the wall. I have never felt so completely like I wanted to die. I think if it had continued, I might have. I didn't eat. No desire. I couldn't walk without getting dizzy and bumping into walls. I know my husband was worried, and it put an unbelievable strain on our marriage. Things that I thought solid were falling apart.

Actually it was his weakness that rallied me. I can do something if I have a reason, so I did pull myself back together, but the strain was incredible. Alayna started acting out in intollerable ways. She became so cruel to her sister that we had to keep them separated. We got sued. You name it, my life was falling apart. Everything, and all at the same time. I had nightmares of going into court and starting to miscarry there in front of the judge.

I started to pray harder, we figured out a solution for our daughters, and they are again together, though not yet at bedtime. Our marriage is stronger, though we are still rebuilding, I hope to make it stronger than it was the first time. The suit is still up in the air, but, after all that has happened, I have to say the people are more important than the money, so whatever happens, we will survive.

Well, as we started to prepare things for Alayna to go to kindergarten, I noticed some very odd feelings in my stomach. It took me a few days. Any movement before I had written off to gas, as I was sure I had lost the baby. Well, no longer. There is no denying the movements, strong, healthy definate baby movements. Each week of complete exhaustion corresponds to a week of extreme growth. I am now almost 22 weeks by my best estimate. The baby is due in the winter. I am hoping for this year, but the baby might decide on next.

I am still in shock. I don't think I will tell anyone. I have told one sister, the only one that really knows about the superfetation and understands and believes. I haven't told my daughters, they have asked, but I have said to not say anything to anyone, and they drop it and forget. I can see the difference in my shape. I wear big dresses (bought before I lost all the weight this year through the cleanses (hey I am down to my marriage weight, even with the pregnancy!!!!) so I don't really show. I just don't tie them in back, leaving them loose and baggy, and I think I can go another couple of months before even my sisters start to suspect.

With all the negativity that I have had, all the abuse, suspicion and cruelty, I don't want to tell people. I don't wan the hope and the disappointment. I don't want the doctors telling me that homebirth is evil and dangerous. I still like doing the research for myself. I still like to make my own choices. I still want a homebirth. Waterbirth. Just me and my husband, together to welcome our child, alone as we were when my baby, our baby was created.