Sunday: Wake up at 8 a.m. to gush of bright red blood, which then subsides to brown spotting. Promptly FREAK OUT. Call doctor. Listen to doctor’s reassurance. Spend rest of day in bed, knowing with logical mind that everything is okay, but FREAKING OUT quietly nonetheless.
Monday: Still spotting. Arrive in doctor’s office 15 minutes before it opens. Struggle to hold shit together. Stare at ceiling, tears slipping treacherously from corners of eyes. Nearly break Husband’s hand by holding it too tightly. Get ultrasound. Watch babies practicing tai chi, clearly cheerful and oblivious to parents’ emotional upset. Listen to doctor’s reassurance. Spend rest of day in bed, knowing with logical mind that everything is okay, but still fretting.
Tuesday: Call part-time tutoring job and quit, on doctor’s orders. Spend day in bed, knowing with logical mind that everything is okay, but still fretting.
Wednesday: Back at desk. Know everything’s okay, but, surprise, still fretting. But! – and this is such an important But that I had to edit this post jut to fit it in – Today is my third wedding anniversary! I would like to thank Husband for being the best damn husband in the whole wide universe. I’m awfully fond of that man.