Last night, I dreamt I miscarried. Of course, my mother was standing next to me, so I knew it was a dream. But hot damn. I woke up, flipped the pillow (bad dreams live on one side, obvs) and continued sleeping. Or mostly sleeping.
I have an ultrasound today, and my baby is twelve weeks + 2 days, and I’m oh-so-nervous.
I told myself I’d play this cool – this nuchal fold/translucency test. I told myself that I’d be calm and collected, because this baby is fiiiiine. However, that might not be the case until I see a nasal bone, a pinky finger bone, and the tech tells me we’re absolutely a-okay.
Stress and parenting have been best friends since forever. Although I’m far more laid back than I originally thought I would be… I am still me (the girl that bought ten dollars worth of organic potatoes for Thanksgiving, because omygawd the pesticides!).
Meanwhile, not so subtle dream hint. My mother = miscarriage. Right?
I’ll update with some new uterus pictures later today…