Published by admin on 29 Nov 2011
Every day I don’t feel queasy I worry that the baby has died. Saturday and today were two of those days.
Yesterday I was supposed to “graduate” from my fertility clinic to my normal OB, but because my doctor is a little scattered at times, that was incorrect information. I really like my doctor, but Jesus, man, get it straight. I believe this is why he has such long pauses after everything he says, because, yeah, he has a LOT of patients and yeah, my chart is now about 500 pages. (Give or take a 100.) So, now I have to go in on Friday for my “final” ultrasound. Which, of course has me quaking in my boots.
What if it is… not alive? Well, it will kind of ruin Disneyland for the whole family is all. My sister and her husband and kids are meeting us in Anaheim for some family fun time. Fancy hotel and Disney parks sounded like such a good idea when they didn’t fall the weekend after an ultrasound of doom.
So, pretty much I’ve decided that the weekend will be ruined and I’ll spend the whole two days sullying my near perfect Disneyland record of happy fun times. This means I’m a pessimist. I know. I just can’t figure out how you optimists deal with the bad stuff, do you just cheerily say, “Oh well! Better things are yet to come!” and tra la la down the lane? Because that sounds really fucking crazy to me.
Three more sleeps until the ultrasound of doom. Here’s hoping I feel shitty tomorrow.