So here I lay on the couch, on my ‘vacation week’, after a weekend in Tremblant where we cancelled two golf rounds and where I REALLY took advantage of the king sized bed at the Fairmont, watching Drew Carey sporting a really hideous hairstyle and waiting for one of the most important tests I have ever had, but not until tomorrow. The day stretches ahead of me, long and full of anxiety and terror that I may be losing this baby.
I don’t get it. Why again? Why the hell am I bleeding? What is WRONG, dammit?
You feel so powerless. Our bodies do some incredibly amazing things, but unfortunately you can’t open them up to see what is going on, and that means you simply wait to see. That sucks. So all I have to cling to is an ultrasound appointment I have tomorrow (a pre-existing appointment, thank god) that will hopefully reveal what could be the problem, and confirm that all is well….maybe. The other option is just something I don’t want to contemplate yet.
All I know is that today won’t feel like much of a vacation day. It will feel like purgatory for something I did that was very very wrong.