This is what my mum told me after I texted her in tears this morning because of my overwhelming anxiety about tomorrow’s scan.
In 24 hours, we will have either seen Cub’s little heartbeat thumping away, or we’ll be lost in an ocean of grief.
I am absolutely paralysed with fear that it will be the latter, but desperately hoping it will be the former.
I haven’t always felt this nervous, but with less than a day to go, I can’t stop crying at the thought that this pregnancy could be over before it’s properly begun.
I know I’m being silly.
I know it is entirely normal to feel worried.
I know it is out of my control.
I know I will feel this way before every scan I have.
I know worrying about it is putting undue stress on me and Cub.
I know that there is no reason to feel as scared as I do.
But I am.
I’m fucking terrified.
I’ve gone from feeling elated when we left the midwife appointment on Tuesday, to feeling sick to my stomach that something is wrong.
I’ve spent most of this morning in tears. It didn’t help that Dave was out at the football with his Sunday league team for several hours so I was left on my own with my thoughts.
And Dr Google.
You don’t even need to say anything. I know. I know.
The problem is, my lack of morning sickness is bothering me. My mum didn’t have it with either my brother or me, and I know I should feel lucky that that I’m one of the rare fortunate women that skips it, but I would feel so reassured if I was hugging the toilet bowl at least once a day. And I know how crazy that sounds, especially when one of my close friends has suffered with bad sickness throughout her whole pregnancy so far.
My boobs have been hurting less today as well. But that’s probably because I’ve been braless in my pyjamas and done very little moving about to make them feel achey and heavy like they normally do.
I also didn’t wake up in the night to have a wee last night. For the past week, at 1:30am, I’ve woken up every night to go to the loo. The rational part of me says that’s because I didn’t drink as much yesterday as I have done during the week. The irrational part of me says it’s my symptoms decreasing because Cub has stopped growing.
I know every pregnancy is different. I know every day will have variations in the strength of my symptoms. And my teary mood today is probably my hormones, indicating that I’m still very much pregnant!
The thing is, the things that have normally reassured me, aren’t reassuring me anymore.
Every now and then I still use an internet cheapie to test that I’m still pregnant. And every time I do it the test line shows up immediately before I’ve even removed the strip from my wee. And each morning I still take my temperature. And it is still as high as it always has been. No scary dips at all. I’ve also had not a single bit of bleeding. Or scary cramps (but typing that has made me think I SHOULD be having more noticeable cramping at this stage, surely?)
But I couldn’t help myself from googling my symptoms (or lack of) and whether BBT and HCG changes when you’ve had a missed miscarriage. Apparently both of those things remain elevated in that circumstance because your body still thinks you’re pregnant. So actually, temping and testing ISN’T telling me that Cub is fine at all.
And I keep reading about people’s miscarriage experiences on Internet forums, Instagram, and friends’ blogs and texts.
I honestly don’t know how I’d survive if we saw no heartbeat tomorrow. I really don’t. Thinking about it now is making me cry. And to see Dave’s devastated face would break me into a million pieces that would never be put back together again.
I feel like I’m mourning in advance. Protecting my heart by starting the process now. I wish I could just be blissfully ignorant to all this like many other pregnant women seem to be.
I’m going to take all of my friends’ advice, and stop googling and looking for horror stories.
The only thing that will make me relax (for a short time) is tomorrow’s scan going well.
I just need to tell myself that I’m blessed with an easy pregnancy (so far) as my reward for the heartache to get to this point.
And I need to tell the voice that’s saying I can’t possibly be lucky enough to get pregnant and stay pregnant, to shut the fuck up.