I woke up feeling an odd sense of dread. I'm 10w2d pregnant and this is the exact point that I learned my last baby had died last January. I can't help but run to the restroom to check out every drop of moisture down below, which means I'm always in the restroom since I'm still on the twice daily progesterone regimen and it feels that there's always something wet in my britches.
I finally put my fears about this pregnancy aside and was enjoying a good day. I received a phone call late this afternoon/early this evening that completely ruined my day and spiked my blood pressure through the roof. I'm furious that I received such a phone call in the first place and I'm doubly furious that I received it on what is such a high-tension day for me.
I had a blog post that I was prepared to write, but I'm working on my desktop computer (which I hate using) as my laptop won't boot up for some dang reason. That's just freaking wonderful because I'm apparently made of cash. . .at least, I gather that's the perception that some people have. Those who know me know that's not true at all and I'm actually very careful with money.
My financial health is neither here nor there. At the moment I'm far more concerned about my emotional and physical health. To be more accurate, the health of my baby and the condition of my heart. Not the heart that pumps blood throughout your body, the heart that is the seat of your emotional health. I feel hurt and disgusted and concerned and, as a result, I'm just not very inspired at all to write the blog post I had planned.
Hm, it would appear that I had far more to write than I anticipated.