Fears
Only the truly diligent know they are even pregnant at this stage. It is too early to think about it, talk about, plan for anything. I may not even be pregnant right now. That is the horror of it. You are only as good as your last pregnancy test. I’ve learned to be comforted by exhaustion, by cramps, by painful bowel movements. These are all signs that something is going on down there. I even like the fleeting moments of nausea I experienced last week, that vague carsick wooziness. A loosening in the jaws, the need to eat a cracker to calm my stomach.
But some time last week, I think Thursday, I stopped feeling so awful. The cramps stopped. The fatigue remained (thank god), but no more debilitating lower abdominal pain. And you know what? This makes me nervous. My acupuncturist told me she doesn’t have needles large enough for me. Am I really that bad? I’m sure most women are this anxious. The further along you are, the closer you are to something. But as more time passes, there is more to lose.
My ultrasound is on Tuesday. They will look for the yolk sac. At eight weeks, it is considered a fetus. Right now, it’s still in the prep stage. I think about my age and how lucky we are to be where we are. I think about my age and the things that can go wrong.
Yesterday, R. and I spent the day shopping in New Jersey. The malls and large department stores, especially Target, present a frightening cross section of all that can go wrong in the world. When I crossed paths with a child or adolescent with an obvious disability, my heart sank.
I refuse to look at statistics. I know they will be revealed later. For now I distract myself, which is probably why I haven’t posted as often this week. I’m trying to spare others of my craziness. I’m trying to hide all these fears.
