Apparently Tuesdays are my freak out days. It was last Tuesday that I seriously considered calling my RE to see if she'd move my beta up to Wednesday because I wasn't sure I could take it any more. And really, as calm as I've been, today the nerves started to get to me again.
It wasn't helped by the fact that I realized I wasn't supposed to be eating a sandwich from Subway until after I'd eaten it. I completely spaced about the cold cut thing. I then spent a half an hour Googling symptoms of lysteriosis and seriously considering going to the bathroom and purging. (I didn't.) Anxiety disorders- WHEE!
After I managed to talk myself down, the panicked feeling still remained. Then on the way home, it was storming like I don't know what and I hydroplaned worse than I ever have before. It was that moment where you see barricades on the side of the road coming and think "Welp, this is it." Suddenly I actually hit another puddle with my left tires that sent me the other direction but that was away from the water so my wheels caught and I was fine. I'm pretty sure my heart is still racing a little, but I'm fine. My next thought was "hope the baby is okay."
It reminded me of the earthquake we had when I was pregnant with Robbie. Once the shaking was over, the first thing I did was grab the Doppler and make sure he was alright. I don't know why he wouldn't have been, but I was scared, and the first thing I needed to know was that my baby was okay. I was 20 weeks pregnant, but I still wasn't convinced I wasn't going to do something to hurt him. Little did I know that 6 short weeks later, my body would try to kill us both.
Today I'm only 5 weeks and 4 days pregnant, and I have way more evidence that my body can't be trusted than I did then. But I feel less panicked. I have no idea what Thursday will bring. I feel fine. My boobs hurt like whoa, but everything else is normal. No barfing, no food aversion, not even the regular dry heaves that I had with all three pregnancies before this. I'm not exceptionally tired, my back doesn't hurt. I've had a little bit of round ligament pain, but that's as close as I can come to feeling different. Maybe this is what a healthy pregnancy feels like? How would I know? Hopefully we'll know more on Thursday. But I'll only be 6 weeks then so even the absence of a heartbeat won't be definitive. It's early, I know that.
We haven't told our families yet. I don't exactly know why. It's not like I wouldn't want them to know if I miscarried again. Hell, everyone knows about our past losses. I'm as out of the closet as a person can get. I think mostly I worry about their reaction. I'm afraid my dad will be worried about my health more than excited about the baby. I couldn't fault him there. But I am excited and I want him to be, too. And my mother in law? Well, her reaction the last two pregnancies didn't even include a congratulations. It was "do you know if the baby is going to be okay?" When I told her I wouldn't know that until the baby was born (and ha! Turns out not even then!) she mostly just got quiet. It still makes me angry to think about it. And that's so hypocritical of me because even when I found out I was pregnant with Robbie, my own reaction was "well, we'll see." Apparently I'M allowed to be skeptical, but she's not. Which isn't fair, but that's how I feel anyway.
Tonight David asked if we should tell her this weekend (we will be seeing her). I said we'd see how Thursday went. I told him I was still a little hurt by her reaction the last two times. He didn't defend or agree with her. He just got quiet. After a long moment he sighed and said "I guess it's nice for some people to have normal pregnancies. But we'll never know that." It made me sad. David is the most hopeful, optimistic person I know, really. I said "Maybe this one." But he just shook his head in disbelief. Even he is disillusioned by our history. I added "yeah, even if this pregnancy goes perfectly, it won't be normal. Normal people don't have a team of specialists. They're not high risk from the start." We changed the subject.
Oddly, the conversation almost helped to settle my nerves. Perhaps it was just the outward speaking of our fears. Maybe it was just the reminder that we simply aren't in control. Or maybe it was just letting myself get a little angry at someone insinuating my baby might not make it. Whatever it was, I feel calmer tonight. Two more sleeps until we have a little more information. Maybe not an answer, but at least another hint.