12 June, 2016

Yesterday we met with our midwife. She’s lovely and warm and soft and exactly what we were wanting. She offered kind words about your nana, and reassuring ones for my fears. We left with smiles on our faces, minds put to rest, and forms for blood tests and scans. We were happy.

This morning I woke up after a deep and restful sleep of the kind that I haven’t had in a long time. Instantly I knew something wasn’t right but it took me a few moments to search through my foggy brain and determine what it was. Then I realised — my breasts weren’t sore and my nose was clear and I wasn’t tired. In other words for the first time in weeks I didn’t feel pregnant. I woke your papa and told him, the words rushing from my mouth so fast that I had to repeat myself. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and pulled me close. He told me I was being silly, that this was normal, that my bodies strong and that I’m just entering the second trimester. I let him calm me and I tried to believe him but deep down I’m so worried little one — I’m worried that you tiny wee heart has stopped beating and that your tiny wee limbs have stopped growing. And I know that worrying does no good, and I know that I’m young and healthy, and I know that it’s out of my hands, but still I worry.

We’re having the scan in sixteen days. Sixteen more days little one. Hang on in there, please.