I’m in the part of pregnancy where (for me) I don’t get as many ultrasounds. I don’t think I’ll be scheduled for another one for at least a month, unless Dr. Risky wants to check me for something. I hate this part of pregnancy. I don’t feel any better, I’m not getting ultrasounds, and it’s too soon to feel the baby move. So I just have to trust that everything is going okay, and of course I have no reason to think it isn’t, except for, you know, history.
I’d forgotten how on-edge you are during pregnancy. I’ve done this before, I should know the difference between a cramp and ligament pain, but it still makes me pause. Is this headache normal? Is this weird off and on throbbing in my lower abdomen normal? Is it normal that every time I sneeze it feels like I’m being stabbed in the uterus? I can’t remember these things happening last time, or the time before. Well, I remember the sneezing thing, but it’s still weird.
I’m still doing my best to stay positive, but if I’m honest I’m also a bit detached. I know that will change once I can feel the baby moving. And I definitely know that will change once we find out if the baby is a boy or a girl. It will all feel more tangible at that point. But try as I might to be easy-breezy, my guard is still up a bit.
Yesterday was the due date for the pregnancy I miscarried earlier this year. I’d forgotten until I saw it marked on my calendar. I was a little sad thinking about how we’d have a two-week-old (or older) at home for Christmas. I was also wistful when I realized my hyperemesis would be over (also realized I would have had the pregnancy in one calendar year, so only one yearly deductible to meet DAMN IT). But it helps, a lot, to have this growing hope that we’ll have a baby home next Christmas. I do let myself think about what stocking I’ll hang for the Acrobat, or how cute s/he and Annabel will be sitting under the tree. You know I won’t be able to resist dressing them matchy-matchy. It’s a sickness and I am already infected.
It’s a big step that I’m already picturing a baby at the end of this…I don’t think I got to that point until I was at least 34 weeks pregnant with Annie. So maybe my guard isn’t as high as I thought.
But maybe I can convince Dr. Risky to give me an ultrasound sooner rather than later…you know, as a Christmas present.
I’m not as big as last time (and I’m further along than this pic)…not gonna worry, not gonna worry…