Holy God. The ultrasound isn’t until next Tuesday and I have almost chewed both my arms completely off. Well, not literally (yet), but it’s the next step. This is just never-ending levels of hard. D helpfully interjected that once we see the heartbeat all this stress will all go away like magic (bibbity-bobbity-f*ing-BOO) and I absolutely snarled at the man. We saw a perfectly healthy normal heartbeat last cycle too, SEVERAL times, and it still vanished like a fart in the wind – just in case he’d managed to forget that little tidbit of information.

And the conversation disintegrated from there, as you can imagine. There were raised voices (mine), lowered voices (his) and wary backing away with hands spread, lest the sudden motion cause me to attack, all bared teeth and insanity.

I have to peel my fingers away from a white-knuckled grip after the first ultrasound. If for no other reason than that I cannot go through an entire pregnancy this frightened. And if the results are bad, there’s not a damn thing I can do. You’d think I’d be used to that mantra by now. If I can get stuff done for my Wed meeting maybe I’ll just take the whole U/S day off. A mental health day is called for, I’m thinking…..

Okay. Thanks for letting me vent, I’ll get back to practicing deep breathing and not growling.

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