Here I go again, dumping my anxiety into a blog post the day before a next appointment.
It's hard to believe that it's been four weeks since my last appointment. As is always the case, during the waiting, each of the last four weeks have crawled by at a snail's pace. I waited impatiently, counting each Sunday as it passed, watching myself creep from ten to eleven to twelve to thirteen weeks. But now that tomorrow is the next Big Day, it also feels like this last month has flown by.
Let's start by saying that I hope beyond hope that there is still a heartbeat tomorrow. I don't have any particular reason to believe that there won't be, but in so many ways I am more fearful of a missed miscarriage than I've ever been fearful of a miscarriage that shows up with bleeding. I think it's a control thing. If I'm going to miscarry, I'd rather figure it out on my own, instead of having to wait for somebody else to discover it.
I desperately want there to be a heartbeat tomorrow, because then I'll feel "allowed" to feel pregnant. I keep slipping into pregnant mode, and I feel like I haven't actually earned that right quite yet. I keep bookmarking links to items for a hypothetical nursery, and I have a tiny little list of pregnancy purchases that I plan on making tomorrow evening if all goes well at the appointment.
More than that, I keep feeling sort-of pregnant. I'm definitely gaining weight, or at least gaining the appearance of weight. My clothes all look funny. My boobs are huge. I'm breaking out my summer clothes now that it's getting warm, and without sweaters and scarves to cover myself up, I feel like EVERYBODY can look at me and say "Wow...she's gained a little weight, hasn't she?" Shortly after crossing the twelve-week mark, I've developed pretty consistent heartburn. Nothing severe, but shockingly predictable. Anything acidic or too-salty that I eat results in low-grade, persistent heartburn. And I'm not generally prone to it, so it MUST be the pregnancy, right? Still gag myself pretty regularly when brushing my teeth, and this morning, it was bad enough that I had to lie down on the bathroom floor for a few minutes because I was sure I was about to throw up. We're at the point when I have to get up pretty much every night to pee, though I've also started drinking more water before bed, so who knows.
All of these symptoms really do, indeed, lead me to believe that I'm pregnant.
But I'll feel like such a big, silly faker if things aren't good tomorrow. Like I've said before, each doctor's appointment makes me wonder if I'm just faking things, and they haven't yet caught on to the fact I'm not really pregnant.
And so here's the scariest part of it all.
If there is a heartbeat tomorrow (And I have to believe that there will be, right? I have to stay positive!!), then Matt and I share the news with our families this weekend. And maybe a few friends. And who am I kidding...no matter how much we might want to keep things quiet, news spreads quickly, and we can't very well swear EVERYONE to secrecy, right?
Anyway, all things considered, I'm not nearly as anxious about tomorrow's appointment as I was about any of my first monitoring ultrasounds. But I am in a hurry for tomorrow to happen. I'm ready to know something more and to figure out if my "symptoms" are actual symptoms, and if I'm clear to breathe free for another week or so before I again get impatient for the next appointment. So I really am working to stay positive, and to relax, and to throw all my energy into thinking good thoughts.
Will update tomorrow with what I know...
It's hard to believe that it's been four weeks since my last appointment. As is always the case, during the waiting, each of the last four weeks have crawled by at a snail's pace. I waited impatiently, counting each Sunday as it passed, watching myself creep from ten to eleven to twelve to thirteen weeks. But now that tomorrow is the next Big Day, it also feels like this last month has flown by.
Let's start by saying that I hope beyond hope that there is still a heartbeat tomorrow. I don't have any particular reason to believe that there won't be, but in so many ways I am more fearful of a missed miscarriage than I've ever been fearful of a miscarriage that shows up with bleeding. I think it's a control thing. If I'm going to miscarry, I'd rather figure it out on my own, instead of having to wait for somebody else to discover it.
I desperately want there to be a heartbeat tomorrow, because then I'll feel "allowed" to feel pregnant. I keep slipping into pregnant mode, and I feel like I haven't actually earned that right quite yet. I keep bookmarking links to items for a hypothetical nursery, and I have a tiny little list of pregnancy purchases that I plan on making tomorrow evening if all goes well at the appointment.
More than that, I keep feeling sort-of pregnant. I'm definitely gaining weight, or at least gaining the appearance of weight. My clothes all look funny. My boobs are huge. I'm breaking out my summer clothes now that it's getting warm, and without sweaters and scarves to cover myself up, I feel like EVERYBODY can look at me and say "Wow...she's gained a little weight, hasn't she?" Shortly after crossing the twelve-week mark, I've developed pretty consistent heartburn. Nothing severe, but shockingly predictable. Anything acidic or too-salty that I eat results in low-grade, persistent heartburn. And I'm not generally prone to it, so it MUST be the pregnancy, right? Still gag myself pretty regularly when brushing my teeth, and this morning, it was bad enough that I had to lie down on the bathroom floor for a few minutes because I was sure I was about to throw up. We're at the point when I have to get up pretty much every night to pee, though I've also started drinking more water before bed, so who knows.
All of these symptoms really do, indeed, lead me to believe that I'm pregnant.
But I'll feel like such a big, silly faker if things aren't good tomorrow. Like I've said before, each doctor's appointment makes me wonder if I'm just faking things, and they haven't yet caught on to the fact I'm not really pregnant.
And so here's the scariest part of it all.
If there is a heartbeat tomorrow (And I have to believe that there will be, right? I have to stay positive!!), then Matt and I share the news with our families this weekend. And maybe a few friends. And who am I kidding...no matter how much we might want to keep things quiet, news spreads quickly, and we can't very well swear EVERYONE to secrecy, right?
Anyway, all things considered, I'm not nearly as anxious about tomorrow's appointment as I was about any of my first monitoring ultrasounds. But I am in a hurry for tomorrow to happen. I'm ready to know something more and to figure out if my "symptoms" are actual symptoms, and if I'm clear to breathe free for another week or so before I again get impatient for the next appointment. So I really am working to stay positive, and to relax, and to throw all my energy into thinking good thoughts.
Will update tomorrow with what I know...
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