You know the one that I mean.
The one that sits in the back of your mind, and keeps telling you things are going wrong. The one that makes you inspect every wipe of toilet paper for any hint of pink. “Is that blood?! Oh wait, no, that’s just a thread. I’m wearing red underwear.”
The one that analyzes every single cramp or twinge. “Gas, or bad cramp? Normal pregnancy pain, or bad cramp? Could that be a contraction?”
It’s not even rational. It doesn’t even give you the chance to decide that you aren’t going to worry about it, because so much is normal. You aren’t given the opportunity to ignore what may or may not actually be there.
You just worry.
This will be another one. I’m going to lose another baby. What do I do then? What happens if I can never carry another child to term? To the end of the first trimester? What if we can’t get pregnant again?
Every day, I close my eyes and think around it. I tell myself to stop, to calm down, to be reasonable. I have no reason to believe things wont turn out perfectly fine, and I try to focus my energy on positive things – think about baby names, and new bedrooms and hand-me-down clothes. Imagine what Ronan will be like next February, and taking another maternity leave. Worry about the money, because that’s better than worrying about another miscarriage.
Don’t worry, Mandy. You will survive, no matter what happens. Everything will be okay. Just breathe.
