A little bit pregnant, truly.

We hadn't been trying long, maybe 1 or 2 months before I got a BFP right before Christmas. We were both excited and nervous about the prospects of growing our family. Unlike the last time around I decided to share the news with our parents really early on, but now I'm beginning to understand why people don't do that.

My first appointment, scheduled for January 8th, unfortunately did not go as planned. Both Maggie and the husband came to the appointment with me. I was set to have an ultrasound, and we figured it would be a really special moment for us to all see the little heartbeat on the monitor together. Well, notsomuch. During the ultrasound the tech could not find the baby, only the gestational sac, which means one of two things--either the baby didn't develop past 4 or 5 weeks or that I was much further behind than I originally thought (the latter of which being near to impossible because I had been keeping close track of my dates). I left the office feeling teary, but trying to keep it together for Maggies sake. She asked me several times, "OK mommy? Feel better?" in that sweet little voice of hers which was enough to break my heart.

Before going home, I had to give some blood so they could check my HCG and progestrone levels. The results of this test would determine what the next step would be, but I also had to wait until the following morning since it was already 4:30 in the afternoon.

That night of waiting was absolutely awful. I prayed that the office would call me early in the morning with some news one way or the other. Well, thankfully they got me around 9:30, and told me that my hormone levels were high enough to indicate that I wasn't miscarrying and they also wanted me to schedule a HD ultrasound the following week (this upcoming Wednesday) to see if I had made any progress compared to my previous screen.

So now, here I sit in limbo. A little bit pregnant, but on the cusp of possibly losing it. I made the mistake of googling for information about this type of situation, and found that my chances were about 50/50. I still have pregnancy symptoms such as sore boobs, exhaustion, nausea and very sensitive smell, but every once in a while I wonder if it is all in my head. I dread each time that I go to the bathroom that I'm going to find something I'm not prepared for.

On top of all this, I feel like an impostor around my new mom friends who don't know what's up. Yesterday we met up with two of my newer mom friends and their girls at a pottery painting place and I was on the verge of tears trying to deal with one of Maggie's tantrums, yet I felt like a total ass because I couldn't tell them why I was acting the way I was. Way to turn off potential friends you know?

I had a long talk with my mom too, who told me the same thing had happened to her between myself and my brother. She had all sorts of philosophical b.s. to tell me about how I don't want the baby that "wasn't meant to be" yadda yadda yadda. While I appreciate her trying to reach out to me while I'm going through this, it wasn't what I needed to hear that night.

My best support so far has been from one of my best friends, who always wants to hear how I'm feeling. She has been even better than my husband, who I suspect is sick of hearing me whine about my pregnancy symptoms and my mental anguish about what might or might not be happening to my body.

I'm ready for this limbo to be over, no matter how things turn out. If I'm not pregnant, then I'm ready to move on try again. If I am still pregnant, then praise God, and let me move on to the next thing--figuring out how we're going to have a baby, a toddler and two grownups in a 850 s.f., two bedroom apartment!