Something all pregnant women experience. Whether about ‘being a mum’ or being ready or having the right things and breast feeding. We all worry and are fearful about something.
But, and I hope that my infertility friends out there agree. There is something about us women with issues that changes this fear.
It becomes an all consuming, infestation of fear. It eats away at our positivity, our happiness and leaves us with a putrid rotting mess of fear and worries.
Even when we do get that BFP, we panic until we have seen a scan, with two weeks till your next scan you ride a wave of joy for a week until the fear virus erodes away at your excitement until your a quivering nervous wreck again at your next scan convinced something bad has happened and your babies been taken away.
I have the virus. I have the fear. My 12 week scan is on Friday, 5 days away, and I am terrified to look at the screen terrified something will have happened.
I have fleeting panics about ‘silent’ miscarriages because my sister in law had one. Moments of mental anxiety so severe I swear my heart will start will bleed with fear.
With every disappearing symptom I convince myself its not because that’s to be expected nearing the end of the first trimester but because something bass happened.
We dislike the symptoms but they are a reassurance. A comfort knowing your bodies responding to the baby growing.
I have one small comfort, I developed a new symptom the other night, a persistent sour taste that won’t go away. It’s gross but I know it’s a good sign, so I’m clinging desperately to it hoping it will provide me some kind of antibiotic to my fear virus.
I just need Friday to come and the doctors to give me the all clear.
I have everything crossed.