Not much to say. . .

I'm pretty fucking boring right now.

Nothing has really changed. My boobs are still huge and sore much of the time. My nipples are a shocking size. I still have bad nausea, some gagging, but not much real vomiting. Bloat is on its way, and frequent urgent need to pee has shown up, and my skin is crap and my sense of smell is not helping the nearly ever present nausea.

In other words, still pregnant.

In other news, still scared.

Not as frightened as previously and it still feels different than it did with Chickadee, where it was an underlying theme. More and more I catch myself thinking about how far along I will be by this date and wondering if the little chicken is a boy or girl (opinions are definitely split on this issue, except in my household where DH is adament about girl and I lean towards it myself). We've talked about how we want to tell our families (next weekend, in person, we'll head home for a spell if things with the u/s go well).

In other words, I've been making some plans around this baby.

Nevertheless . . . I still get very concerned about what we will see during the u/s. I've read a lot of positive posts lately about women who have had success after loss. And I've read a lot of posts from women who have miscarried. It's a little nerve-wracking. Another internal difference I see with this time versus Chickadee - I avoided all m/c posts like the plague and if I stumbled into one, I felt a lot of fear and hoped to God I wouldn't be next. This time, I feel badly for them, but relieved it's not me. There is a sense of peace from somewhere inside that says it's not me.

I will be 6 weeks tomorrow, which is something of a milestone. A large number of miscarriage take place before 6 weeks. The gross genetic malformations, a lot of blighted ovums . . . so though we aren't out of the woods (after all, Chickadee's pregnancy was over 9 weeks, despite devleopment ceasing at 5 weeks), it is a little milestone that brings a modicum of relief.

But it all comes down to Wednesday. What happens Wednesday will determine a lot of things, and the pressure of that is scary. It's hard to believe that I've only been pregnant for not quite 3 weeks (well, known I was anyway). It feels like forever.

And the thing that nibbles at me and hurts me to think about? I really love being pregnant. I don't care for the symptoms a lot, but I really do love being pregnant and thinking a new life, a new human, our child, who can do amazing things, is currently being knit together inside my body. I like a lot about pregnancy and I want to continue to be pregnant. So I have hope and dread whenever I consider Wednesday. It's becoming more calm, which is nice. Less frantic, though I can't promise it stays that way.

I keep thinking and saying to the little chicken - please be ok in there. Please be growing. We love you and we can't wait to see your little flickering heart on that screen.