I feel guilty that the 15th went by uncommemorated by my blog. I personally have no experienced a loss, but I experience it through the words of so many of the blogs that I follow, and I always wish there was some way that I could lend more support. I'm always thinking of you ladies and your angel babies, and sending my love.
Today marks 20 weeks pregnant for yours truly. I'm going to skip the weekly post and instead just take a deep breath and honor a point in my life that I never imagined I would be able to get to. Each week that passes qualifies under that, I suppose, but this seems monumental to me for some reason. I still have a ways to go, I know. I have so much love for this little girl growing inside of me.
I hesitate when people ask about her name. I'm not really sure why, because I love the choice that we've made, and am so proud of it and where it comes from. Maybe I feel like saying it aloud will jinx it somehow. I exhibit a lot of that behavior. I wouldn't give away my tampons, I can't delete the cycle tracking app off of my phone or clear the memory on it, even though I'm running out of space. I feel loony just saying those kinds of things.
Her name is Betty Jean. My mother's first name is Betty, as well as her mother's (my mammaw) sister. My mammaw's middle name is Jean, and is actually the name she uses day to day. I've always loved old-fashioned names, and these women are inexpressibly important and special to me, so it seems only right.
Only 20 more weeks to go, baby Betty! I can't wait to meet you!