The waiting game

I wish I could say I haven't been posting because I've been off dancing in Pregnancy Heaven. Blissfully designing the nursery, eagerly speculating about the gender, and just generally GLOWING as I go about my merry day.

But no. It's Pregnancy Hell.

I am finding this first trimester infinitely more difficult than when I was pregnant with Bean. The main reason for this is probably denial -- or more accurately, the lack of it. Last time, my brain took its time accepting the fact that there was, indeed, a small life growing inside my tummy. Because, again, stuff like that just didn't happen for me.

But this time, it seems more within reach. I did gestate, and quite successfully, a 9 lb. 14 oz. child for a full 40 weeks. It is possible, my brain is more prepared for this.

And also, last time the thought of an actual BABY at the end of the pregnancy was quite nebulous. I couldn't imagine what it would be like, holding MY baby, taking him home, feeding him, changing him, loving him with more of my heart than I knew existed. It was far away and foreign. But this time, I am more focused on that moment. Meeting my child and welcoming him/her into the family. My heart is more on the line, knowing what I could lose.

My ultrasound is tomorrow.

Today, I started spotting.

My doctor, predictably, is not worried. (How nice for him!) It's fairly common for women to experience this during the first trimester, it doesn't always mean Bad Things... of course I do know this. But it's not a comfort. Every moment between now and 11:30 am tomorrow is painful. I can't get comfortable, I can't relax.

I am preparing for the worst.

And it sucks.