week 11 freakout

I’m still here holding my breath, waiting for the bubble to burst. It hasn’t yet. And I’m beginning to think there’s a possibility that it won’t. Well, some days at least. And then there are days like Tuesday, when I am convinced everything is going to shit.

We’ve been having weekly ultrasounds, and each week I can’t help but be pleasantly surprised to see there’s still a baby in there, growing, moving and beating its little heart. Tuesday’s ultrasound was no different. But the sonographer spent a little more time looking around and found a subchorionic hematoma (basically a small collection of blood in the uterine wall, outside of the amniotic sac).

She assured us it was quite common and would resolve itself on its own. But, of course, why should I believe a medical professional who deals with this stuff on a daily basis when I could believe my untrained, paranoid subconscious who’s convinced we are doomed?

I sent a frantic email to the nurse practitioner at Dr. Kwak-Kim’s office. And she reassured me that it’s common and should resolve itself. She advised me to reduce my activity level, refrain from any exercise, and discontinue blood thinners for 2 days, before restarting again at just once a day (until now, I’ve been doing twice daily injections).

This made me breathe easier. Until I woke up in a panic in the middle of the night wondering if two days without blood thinners would be long enough to cause a blood clot. Dr. Google comes up empty. Which probably means I am the only person to freak out about this, which leads me to believe what we all already know: I am a crazy-ass, non-stop, cannot-let-it-go worrier.

Just think about what I am going to be like as the mother of an infant. Running to the crib every 10 minutes, convinced she isn’t breathing. Incessantly google searching the meaning behind the color of his poop. At the ready to perform infant CPR on a 24-hour basis. I’m going to be cutting this kid’s food into tiny pieces until he’s 17 years old. God help us all.

But until then, we’ve got one more big milestone to get to: the 12-week OB appointment next week. If all goes well then, I may just take some of the bubble wrap off me and go out into the world as an openly pregnant woman.