I hate, I mean seriously hate this part of pregnancy before I can feel the baby move. Right now I’m absolutely convinced that there’s something wrong, so I’m stressed out of my mind. I wanted to get a doppler so that I could check the baby’s heartbeat just to reassure myself. I mean, I have two doctor’s visits a month, but there is the time in between like right now when I haven’t seen anyone. I’m supposed to see the perinatologist today, but I had to cancel because the Luke has the flu. Yes, I know it’s crazy to stress like this, especially since I’ve probably been eating too many carbs and that’s a definite no-no for those of the insulin-resistant persuasion like me. I also haven’t been sleeping well. I haven’t had alcohol since last March, and haven’t really missed it, but it would be nice to have a nice glass of wine just to take the edge off, but of course, I can’t.
When I mentioned getting a doppler to Whit he absolutely nixed the idea from the word go. I agree with him that I’m paranoid and neurotic, but I’m not crazy. I would NOT be listening to the baby’s heartbeat every twenty minutes as he claims. Once a day would be more than sufficient. At least until I can feel the baby move, then I probably wouldn’t use it anymore at all. And here’s the kicker, all my “friends” and my doctor agree with him. (Yeah, serious stinkeye at them. You’d think ONE of those heffas would’ve been on MY side. What’s the point of having friends if they’re going to agree with your husband?)
Miscarriages have stolen all my joy and innocence. I can still remember my first pregnancy and how naive I was. It never occurred to me, despite having excruciating fibroid pain for three months, that my baby wouldn’t make it. Now it’s hard to convince me that she will. My OB keeps pointing out that a loss at this point is unlikely and intellectually I know she’s right, but I also know from experience that it’s possible and that’s what keeps me up nights. I don’t know if my soul could survive losing another one. So I cry at every doctor’s appointment when I hear the heartbeat, I even started crying when I talked with the genetic counselor. And I cry myself to sleep at night. And I cry at car commercials. And I cry when Luke has a fever. In other words I’m a complete and total mess. At this rate they’ll probably call social services before they’ll let my crazy ass take this baby home.
All I can do is keep waiting for quickening but my babies tend to be lazy, so goodness only knows when that will happen. I didn’t feel the Luke until nearly 20 weeks! This is probably too much information for a blog, but I promised that I would share the good, the bad and the ugly. So here it is.