It’s my disease. I wish it were medically recognized, because then maybe it would warrant an early ultrasound. I don’t know who these people are, but where do they get off having a 6 week ultrasound when I have been condemned to have one at 13 weeks? Right now, I’m not even sure there’s anything in there. I mean, my nipples have decided to feel like open sores since, Friday but that’s like the ONLY pregnancy sign I’ve had.
Besides being woozy.
And besides missing my period.
And besides the positive pregnancy tests.
BUT STILL! There are millions of possible things that could go wrong. Besides the thousands of possible birth defects and illnesses that might affect my child, it could be another miscarriage. It could be an ectopic pregnancy or chemical pregnancy or hysterical pregnancy or any other type of pregnancy that doesn’t, in 8.5 months, result in me being worried about the millions of possible things that could be wrong with my squirming newborn.
I just can’t help it. I know I’m Type-A and I’ll probably die an early, heart-disease induced death over this, but I thrive on constant feedback. That’s why the 2 week wait sucked. That’s why waiting for an ultrasound sucks. That’s why I secretly want a very mild case of morning sickness–just enough to tell me that I’m pregnant but not enough to really bother me. And that’s why even if the baby dances all around my uterus during the ultrasound, I’ll worry about it until it’s healthy and in my arms. And even then I’ll worry that one day it will have autism or some other latent psychological problem. And I’ll pretty much go on worrying about what life will throw at us from the first day of preschool until its has its first kid. And I’ll likely worry some more.