For absolutely no real reason, save for some spotting and some low progesterone, I’m full of The Fear. I have a follow up ultrasound (f/u u/s for those of us speaking medical-eze) on July 2nd to check for…I don’t know what.
And because I am pregnant and therefore certifiable, I’m terrified. I’m not accustomed to all this monitoring and the like, and it’s not helping my irrationality (actual thought: If they’re ordering another u/s, it’s because there is something terribly wrong and they need to confirm it. Reality check: u/s are cash cows, AND following up is standard medical practice).
I’m pretty sure that between the extra (crazy) hormones and the sad fact that after the past six months of hell I have no coping mechanisms left in me whatsoever. This is making day-to-day life fairly hard for me.
In that vein, I may be away from you, my sweet and lovely blog and Internet People for a spell. I fear that all I will do if given the opportunity is whine and complain and worry myself into a tizzy if left to my own pathetic devices.
Instead I will relax on the couch and stare at the wall. What? That doesn’t sound healthy to you?
If you need me, shoot me an email.
And who knows, I’ll probably be back sooner than you think.
Catch you on the flip side, bitches.