7 weeks, 1 day.
My boobs have been decreasingly sore for the last few days. I was nauseous as hell this time last week and don't feel even a fleeting wave of it now. Called my doctor this morning and I am being sent for an ultrasound...
Plain and simple: I am a mess.
I had my first real panic attack about an hour ago. It wasn't fun. Eva didn't even notice, which is a blessing because I was almost going to panic about the impression my panicking would leave on my sweet girl.
Last April, it was in my 7th week that a loss of a symptom sent my mind into a spiral and prompted my doctor to send me for an ultrasound "for my own peace of mind". That ultrasound was awful. Although they found the baby and clocked a good heart rate, it was the beginning of that end. Two days after I began bleeding and miscarried within the week.
Now it is October and I am in my 7th week. I have experienced a loss of a symptom and again I am being sent for an ultrasound for "peace of mind". This time at least the doctor gave me the respect of acknowledging there was cause for concern on her end as well.
My appointment is in an hour and I feel frozen. I am ice cold to the bone despite wearing three layers and Ugg boots. My eyes and face are swollen and red, probably beyond recognition. I am unwilling to look at myself in the mirror for fear of having to hold my own eye contact. I am terrified.
The timing is ominous. Same week, same issue. Deep in the pit of my stomach is the knowledge that at just 7 weeks this baby is supposed to be the size of a blueberry. Did I mention that Eva's fish is named Blueberry??? He died yesterday...
No comments:
Post a Comment