The fear of losing a baby, that is. I went into this pregnancy intending to recover some of the "magic" of a first pregnancy, wanting to spend hours talking to my belly, and wanting to throw myself whole-heartedly into plans without a moment's thought about what might happen.
Well, you said it. What a crock. Just like the last two, I lie awake at night wondering how I would ever handle losing another one. I think about all the things that can still go wrong, and am completely disheartened by the idea that (at best) I have another 14 weeks to go. Being completely frank, it's made worse by the fact that this one is probably the little girl I have so longed for. To know that all my dreams are about to come true, that once she arrives my family will be just as perfect as I could have imagined it ... makes me feel like somewhere there's another shoe. Poised over my head like the sword of Damocles.
I just want the rest of this time to fly by, and I want my little girl healthy and here, so that I never have to be scared this way again.
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