Something always got in the way.

So I am alone in my bedroom. Completely alone, which is not usual with two not-so-small anymore kids in the house. Not so small any more and hopefully a new one on the way soon.

My knight and I were cold for several weeks recently. Not cold in a physical way, oh no. Afraid to talk to each other. I only wanted to talk about one thing and he specifically did not want to talk about that. Then the dam broke, as they usually do.

Now he's away and I'm not drinking. Not. I am watching My So Called Life. During the last few weeks, besides the chill on conversation, there was another chemical pregnancy. I'm having to be thirty-something for awhile. Waiting for blood test results in order to start finding an endocrinologist that I can stand for more than two visits. My knight has a loaded gun and my body can't hold the shot.

But this post is really supposed to be about My So Called Life. I was fifteen in 1994. Fifteen with an alcoholic father who was finally not living with us and a mother who was either dealing blackjack or playing poker. I WAS the target audience. We've started watching episodes together. I want my knight to watch the whole series. He will be the father of a teenage girl sooner than we are ready, and he has absolutely no idea what teenage girls are like. Usually we watch two episodes with a really exciting intermission.

And still I cry. Those characters are me. Not any one of them, but all three. I am Angela AND Rickie AND definitely Rayanne. I was second-guessed, and didn't fit in anywhere while trying to take care of everyone else, and engaged in risky behavior to cover emotional problems. So tonight I cried. Especially that the end of the episode where Jordan finally takes Angela's hand to show everyone they are together.

The dam broke and we fought. And I cried. And then we got past fighting. Everything I may have ever said over the last three years about regretting our decision for vasectomy had to come back--this time in full color. My knight selectively remembers only the good times. He does not remember how sick and scared and not alive, not capable of making life changing decisions, I was. How much he had to take care of all of us. When we had hashed all the emotions, and he really had some kind of at least water colored in picture. (A part of me really, really wants to put "like" in that sentence.) At the end he holds me and says that he doesn't fully understand the baby thing, but he knows that babies are my thing and knew that when we got together. He looks at me as though he is happy to show the world that we are together.

The next night he jokes about minivans and other obscure cars. Last night he starts the discussion about planning his August trip to Seattle and feel comfortable saying THE word. Ovulation. Tonight I'm alone.

I miss my Lover. My Knight, my Lover who warms my heart and wants to hold my hand in front of the world.

Post script: So only one allusion to sex in this post. Sorry about that. I'll try to keep it on topic, especially lots of posts if we get to try new experiences during pregnancy. Any readers out there should be warned that the balance of emotion and sex will likely be shifted for awhile.

I lay a road for your mind.

So his mind can go go go go. And God has laid a road for my mind. My knight's body has rebuilt a road for him. Our lives have suddenly changed. New opportunities. New things to worry about. A new test for our developed sexual keenness for each other.

I may or may not be currently pregnant, but if I always get the things I want, this would be it. Number 3. Another roller-coaster of hormones. Another chance at sublime birth. A minivan. That's something that never seemed like a good idea, until today.

We found out about the "recanalization" via a positive pregnancy test and then a miscarriage the next day. Too many emotions in too short a time. Too many surprises for my knight to process. His immediate feelings were of a failed surgery, a problem to be fixed. My immediate feelings were a lost miracle and an opening of options.

Not sure how much he has thought about it since then. He says that this week is for thinking about. This week is the week after I have ovulated again, and oh boy did we enjoy a week of intensity. I may be building a house inside as I write this. I was sure motivated to make sure my knight came inside me as often as possible. Generally I enjoy getting him off, but perhaps there was an extra boost in interest.

At least he went into it knowing. Now my heart is in a vault, waiting. Waiting to know. Not drinking. Not drinking too much caffeine either. Waiting. I am bad at waiting. Is every little sign just normal pms or pregnancy?

And I'm hoping. Hoping we will get pregnant. Hoping if we do, that our sexual experience will be better around this time. At least this time my knight is skilled in oral sex. And I am not willing to have bad sex just for him. He can have bad sex by himself. I want to come out of a third pregnancy more in love and lust with my knight than ever. It's a short time during a long marriage. My hope is for a new life without the burden of resentment.