I haven't written in a long time, and I feel bad about it.
I have been so exhausted these past several weeks. I come home from work exhausted and pass out on the couch until bed time. I've lost almost 12 pounds since December because I can't stop puking, even with meds.
I started cramping at work earlier in the week. The next day I started spotting. I panicked. Everything turned out fine, but not without an entire week of terrifying doctor visits.
April 5 is coming up fast. A little less than 3 weeks, I think. I will be 18 weeks and 1 day. Last year on April 5, Brake was born at 18 weeks and 2 days.
The closeness in dates. The anticipation. The uncertainty. It's all unnerving. And honestly, probably adding to the puking and exhaustion. That peace and calm that I felt earlier in the pregnancy? I'm not feeling it quite so much anymore.
Every time things start to get to me, I hear this tiny little voice say "Trust me." I want to. I want to so badly. But then I start thinking about last year and everything starts spiraling out of control again. I don't want to watch another baby die.
On a good note, I got moved to a different workplace when I got pregnant. My chain of command wanted to wash their hands of the situation, so to speak, after how everything happened last year. My new chief talked to me about my pregnancy. Without going into much detail about last year, I let him know that I was a high risk for pre-term labor and that the doctors had mentioned possible cervical stitches and bed rest. He doesn't even want to wait for the doctors to make that call. When I go in next week, I go in for about 3 hours a day to do some shop paperwork.
Since I'm going to be spending so much time at home, and because I actually get to see the sun this summer, my patio is all prepped for a relaxing little spring time haven. A new comfy furniture set. New blooming flowers everywhere and a few more on the way. (You Are My Child has a great flower fundraiser going on, by the way. I got some for the patio and for the memory garden at my mom's.) Bryan even got me a feeder for all the tiny little finches that like to play in our yard.
I'm hoping the fresh spring air and flowers help. If I can manage to relax and maybe even get in some painting time, maybe I can calm the fears a little better. Or at least stop puking and be able to put on some weight.