Another day is here. I am 7 weeks today.
My scan went OK on Thursday, we have a sac, yolk and small crustacean shaped human being with a beating heart.
As I was waiting in the day room to be seen (amongst four or five heavily pregnant women) I dissolved into tears and sobs. Scans bring no joy for me, I have no excited anticipation, just a feeling of impending doom that I can only compare to how Anne Boleyn felt on the morning of her execution. The unavoidable is apparoaching.
The fabulous Sister at the EPU scanned me straight away when she saw the state I was in, and for a brief moment I was content in that dark room watching my babies heart flickering.
But the anxiety and dark thoughts are never far away, as we left the hospital I began to worry about another MMC as with the one I had before Lucy the baby stopped growing about now but wasn't found until a couple of weeks later. And to compound that worry, I am still having browny discharge. It is enough to spot onto my panty liner and is on the toilet tissue after peeing. There is not loads of it, but there is enough of it to be a concern. I am also having back pain on and off, so I am in a constant state of fear.
I did have the same with Lucy from about 6 weeks through to about 9 weeks, so I am trying to tell myself that it is nothing to concern myself with. But my advice falls on deaf and ignorant ears, of course I am worried. I wish for this to be a normal, boring pregnancy that millions of women seem to achieve every year. I am waiting to hear from the hospital regarding my consultant care plan starting. I may phone the EPU again on Monday. Time is passing, albeit very slowly for me.