I Panicked
You're about six weeks old now and about the size of a pea. But, guess what? You already have a heartbeat, and I saw it! Now, you're probably wondering why I've seen your heartbeat at six weeks when you normally have your first doctor's visit at eight or nine weeks, and the answer is that your mom is a paranoid worrywart.
After my first miscarriage, I have become very afraid of you not making it as well. I'm not sure how well I could handle another one of my babies dying in he womb. This past week, I was feeling so very sick: I couldn't function, I was nauseous, I had a headache, a stomach ache, and vertigo. So, naturally, I assumed something was wrong with you and panicked and made a doctor's appointment to see what I could see, so to speak.
When I got to the office, there was a woman openly sobbing in the arms of her partner, and let me tell you, I began to cry, too! There's only one reason why a woman would be crying at an OB's office, and I could sympathize more than expected. The receptionist began to apologize after she saw my tears, and I had to gasp out that I was only crying because of the other woman. It was a little embarrassing, I'll admit, especially since I'm the type of person who usually has her emotions in check and loathes crying (it's so messy and I look ugly). I'm just going to blame my hormones, though my therapist says I'm also an empath.
That crying led to me crying to the nurse when I finally went back for my check-up. I tearfully stumbled through the reason for my visit, and she kindly patted me on the shoulder, telling me that this was a good place to cry. Next, the doctor came, not my doctor, as she was fully booked, but a very nice Hispanic woman who spoke softly. She assured me that my symptoms were normal and were really no need for alarm before she decided to give me an ultrasound.
And that's when I saw you! You were so so very tiny, but your heartbeat was so so strong. The doctor marveled at the strength of your beating heart and assured me that a baby with a heart that strong would most likely make it to term. I promise you that I have never cried tears of joy until that day. I was so overjoyed to know that you were more than alright, that you were thriving. My relief is immeasurable. Keep up the good work, babe.
After my first miscarriage, I have become very afraid of you not making it as well. I'm not sure how well I could handle another one of my babies dying in he womb. This past week, I was feeling so very sick: I couldn't function, I was nauseous, I had a headache, a stomach ache, and vertigo. So, naturally, I assumed something was wrong with you and panicked and made a doctor's appointment to see what I could see, so to speak.
When I got to the office, there was a woman openly sobbing in the arms of her partner, and let me tell you, I began to cry, too! There's only one reason why a woman would be crying at an OB's office, and I could sympathize more than expected. The receptionist began to apologize after she saw my tears, and I had to gasp out that I was only crying because of the other woman. It was a little embarrassing, I'll admit, especially since I'm the type of person who usually has her emotions in check and loathes crying (it's so messy and I look ugly). I'm just going to blame my hormones, though my therapist says I'm also an empath.
That crying led to me crying to the nurse when I finally went back for my check-up. I tearfully stumbled through the reason for my visit, and she kindly patted me on the shoulder, telling me that this was a good place to cry. Next, the doctor came, not my doctor, as she was fully booked, but a very nice Hispanic woman who spoke softly. She assured me that my symptoms were normal and were really no need for alarm before she decided to give me an ultrasound.
And that's when I saw you! You were so so very tiny, but your heartbeat was so so strong. The doctor marveled at the strength of your beating heart and assured me that a baby with a heart that strong would most likely make it to term. I promise you that I have never cried tears of joy until that day. I was so overjoyed to know that you were more than alright, that you were thriving. My relief is immeasurable. Keep up the good work, babe.
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