I feel weird.
I don’t know how to explain it. I thought seeing that beautiful heartbeat would lower my stress level. I thought I’d feel better, more relaxed, but instead, I feel even more afraid.
I know the tech told me everything looked good. I asked her if the baby’s heart rate was ok. She said, “I like to see anything over 100. Under 100, I worry. Over 100, it looks good. And 120 is even better.” Well, baby’s heart rate was measuring 120. So that’s good, right?
It’s not that I’m not happy. I am THRILLED to know that there’s a little blueberry with a beating heart growing in my belly. But now I’m SO in love. I can already picture the day he/she is born, and bringing him/her home. I’m thinking names and clothes and paint colors. But what if something goes wrong again? What if the next time I see the doctor (which isn’t for several weeks) the sweet little heartbeat has slowed, or stopped all together?
I know it’s morbid to think in these terms. I know I should just stop thinking like that and enjoy my pregnancy. But miscarriage has made that impossible for me.
Last night I laid in bed, hands on my tummy, and told this little blueberry how much I love her (ok, I think it’s a girl. Confession.) How I want her to stay strong and grow and be born into our family, how Mommy and Daddy and her big sister can’t wait to meet her in November/December.
Please, please, please let this be it.
Mommy loves you, baby.