I’m getting really ready for that ultrasound on Friday. I feel so much more than I ever have before, and I need that confirmation that everything really is going well. Or, I need the early heads up to stop with the hope BS. But, either way I need to know.
G is basically of the opposite mind. He wants to just sit back and assume all is well unless we get some indication that it isn’t. Which, had we never experienced the hell of missed miscarriage I might be game for. But, considering last time I walked around with a dead baby inside of me for two weeks before finding out and then another five days afterwards, I’m going to have to disagree with him. Since he’s never had to walk around with something that he knows is dead in his body he can’t understand my perpetual need to know. I guess that’s what I’m most freaked out about, I want to know and at this point, if all goes to hell, I don’t want to have to pass it. I’d rather have a D&C and have it over with.
Obviously, my first preference would be for nothing to be wrong. My top pick would be that we have a stunning heartbeat and the baby measures spot on, and Dr. Groll lets me have weekly ultrasounds and every week goes perfectly until he boots me to the regular people’s OB who has a hard time understanding why I didn’t just start with her because my pregnancy is so freaking perfectly uneventful. That’s what I hope for. I’d be happy with much less. I’d be ecstatic with less. I’ll be deliriously happy if the end result is a living child of good health.
But that fear is just nagging me, and nagging me. Friday CAN NOT come soon enough. Even if G won’t be there (but I hope he changes his mind).