When I got pregnant, the control freak in me was thrilled: I had made it through highschool, college, my first job. Hell, I even got married without a hurry and enjoyed four years of life as a couple. I had done it my way. Then at week 8 a reality checked came: even though I had stayed in bed, slowed down on everything, taken my vitamins, there was no heartbeat. Years later there were lots of reasons, good solid ones, to why that first baby never got to be. However, my heart still mourns him or her, but thanks for The biggest lesson ever: I can not control everything. After almost a year, I finally got "over" (you never really get over something like that) and, in the words of Disney's lattest heroine, I let go. And then, only then I got pregnant without planning it around an iPhone app, was genuinely surprised , shocked my husband and family, let every one took extra care of me the first trimester and was happy, thankfull and more importantly, relaxed just watching how this kid keeps on teaching me what his sibbling did: that no matter what, he is not mine to control, but only to enjoy. Thanks, kids.
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