I'm seven weeks today. I can't stop thinking about the fact that at this point in the first pregnancy, it was all over, or nearly so. The m&m stopped growing right around 7 weeks, though they couldn't know if it developed normally until that point and then stopped or if it grew slowly a few days longer and slowly faded out. Either way, by our 7 week 4 day ultrasound its heart had stopped.
Tomorrow's appointment looms large. It feels like the crucial one: like THIS IS THE POINT YOU FIND OUT YOUR BABY IS DEAD should be written across February 18 in my datebook. My mind refuses to believe that I could move past here to something better and safer and less fraught with fear.
When I would think back to being pregnant with the m&m, it always felt like an epoch in my life. The time seemed to fill several months. I remembered every detail-- specific meals, specific jokes, every single time I puked. We crammed a lot into those weeks.
While I can't say the time has flown by this go-around, I can say that it feels appropriately short. It's been just about three weeks since we found out we were pregnant, and it feels exactly like it's been that long, no more, no less. Maybe because I've been anticipating this point, this 7th (or is it the 8th) week since we got the BFP?
There isn't much more to say, is there? Once again, I'm scared. Once again, I'm facing a terminal moment which will either end happily or sadly (because even ambiguity at this point will make me sad). Once again, my heart is trying to prepare itself for a blow, wrapping itself in negative visions and doomed daydreams like packing peanuts and cotton wool.
But I can say this: we found out a few hours ago that Lawyer Guy's step-mother's mom passed away today. LG and I didn't know her well-- I'd met her fewer than a half-dozen times in the last ten years--but I know my father-in-law and step-mother-in-law will be devastated. I know we'll have a funeral to attend in the next few days. I would really, really, really like to be able to spare them more bad news.
Moving across the world, and other adventures
8 years ago
wishing you so much luck tomorrow at your appt.
ReplyDeleteCondolences to you and your families as well.
I'm sorry about your step-mother's mom. Even if you don't know the family member well, it's hard to know that someone else you love is really hurt by the death.
ReplyDeleteThis is a tough milestone for you to reach, babe. I understand the fear and anxiety you have right now. I know that nothing will make it go away except for a great scan tomorrow, so that's exactly what I'm hoping for you.
Hang in there.
Shit. I hate that you're feeling this way. Truly. I can relate all to well and it's absolute hell.
ReplyDeleteI will be praying for you tomorrow that you get wonderful, fantastic news about your little bean.
I'm sorry about the death in the family.
ReplyDeleteI'm praying that you will come out of u/s appointment with a huge smile on your face. It HAS to work at some point, and this may just be that point for you.
Will be thinking of you tomorrow
I'm thinking of you... the wait is so hard, especially the very last parts. I remember sitting in the exam room at 9 weeks (I was out of town at 7 weeks), waiting for my doctor and absolutely shaking in my boots. It's so rough.
ReplyDeleteI also send my condolences to LG's family...
Keeping my fingers crossed for you tomorrow, wishing for only good news and no added stress for you and your family. I know how you are feeling.
ReplyDelete((HUGS)) Praying for good news tomorrow!
ReplyDeleteGood luck love, I'll be thinking of you tomorrow. I'm so sorry about LG's family member.
ReplyDeleteI've been thinking about you quite a bit, Sloper, and I'm hoping like crazy everything goes seamlessly today. And I think it will. Hang in there...it's so close! xoxo
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