When do you stop worrying every minute of the day?
For the three weeks since I received my first positive pregnancy test, there hasn’t been a single day that I’ve not worried over every little thing, held my breath over a twinge, or stopped to pray and beg God to protect this baby.
I hate living in fear like this.
Hate it.
I want to enjoy these moments — these days that multiple doctors told me would not happen.
I wasn’t supposed to be here once, let alone twice! Pregnant? ME?
After our first pregnancy, which ended seven years ago as a missed miscarriage, I went through a battery of tests and numerous rounds of Clomid. When the sixth round of that fertility drug once again failed to stimulate my body to ovulate, my doctor simply said unless I was willing to try IVF, pregnancy wasn’t going to happen.
So now, I still hear my doctors in my head and still remember the experience of losing our baby.
With those memories swirling in my head, I walk on eggshells every day . . . afraid to feel happy. Afraid to be excited. Afraid to do anything but ask God for a miracle.
In about a week, I’ll go back to my doctor for one more confirmation ultrasound. If the heartbeat isn’t visible this time (it wasn’t at my last ultrasound, which occurred at 6 weeks, 2 days), there will be no more ultrasounds.
Sigh.
I wish I could look forward to the appointment and believe that I’ll see that little heart pumping away. . . instead of secretively dreading the ultrasound and the possibility of bad news.
GAH! Why am I being so negative over this? I just want to enjoy being pregnant. . . not wake and sleep in fear.
Sigh.
