Thank you again for all your kind congratulations and general huzzahing. I have read and reread the comments an embarrassing number of times. You are lovely.
Not much new to report around here. Crampiness seems to have tapered off. Have flirted with nausea a few times, but nothing serious yet. Might be having some new strangeness vis-a-vis temperature regulation, but it could be just that it’s sensationally hot around lately. Progesterone has me sleeping like a drugged kitten.
I will but tease you with the suggestion that changes are afoot in the nipple region.
We will go in for a second beta on Saturday. Part of me is, of course, steeling for bad news. Why shouldn’t the news be bad? Plenty of other news has been, for plenty of people. And just because my body has seemed pregnant this week doesn’t mean everything couldn’t be going south…right…NOW.
On the other hand, why shouldn’t the news be good? People do have babies, after all, or at least that is the rumor. Pregnancies progress normally. Embryos become fetuses become infants. These things happen. To plenty of people, as well.
Since I can’t know and there’s not a thing I can do at this point to influence the situation (at least positively), I am for now practicing believing that the news will be good. Practicing believing there is a living tadpole of a creature in me now, that it will stay put and grow appropriately and come to meet us after a sufficient number of weeks.
Practicing believing those things doesn’t make them true, of course, but it’s a lot nicer than my usual habit, which is to practice believing everything will go terribly wrong. So I will spend tomorrow and at least half of Saturday doing that.
And staring at my nipples.