I have an ultrasound tomorrow. I had one last week, but for some reason, the OB wants another one. And TCBIM can't come with me because his dickhead boss won't let him leave work. Bastard.
I am, of course, a nervous, neurotic mess about this. Two years ago, on Jan 23rd, I had a misscarriage. I was 13 weeks along, had already seen the heartbeat, had started getting a bit of a tummy, had started talking about names when, one night, in the middle of the night, there was excruciating back pain, vomiting, diarreah and blood. And that was that. I had to have a D&C because my body didn't actually miscarry the baby. I was a mess after that. It only took me 6 weeks to get pregnant again, but I spent more than half of that pregnancy being worried out of my mind, terrified that something would go wrong. I spent a lot of time combing the internet for reasons why, ways to prevent it from happening again, stories of successful pregnancies after miscarriage, some shred of comfort in the howl of fear that was my life.
Tomorrow I will be nearly 12 weeks along and close enough to my miscarriage anniversary that the superstitious side of me is taking over. I'm scared to death that I'm going to get to the appointment and there will be no heart beat. Of course, today would be the day that I feel fine - no morning sickness, no headache, no nothing. Which, in my uber-freaked out brain, translates to no more baby.
I NEED to chill.