Monday is the day. . .
I'm not exactly sure how I feel. I mean. . . there are hundreds of things I'm feeling, but I feel mostly numb to the situation now. I haven't given up, there is secretly a crap load of hope sitting inside of me. I feel that hope differently each day. I'm just keeping a realistic approach so that I'm not blindsided, if that makes sense.
I am proud of myself for not breaking down, and going in this week for an ultrasound. Monday, and Tuesday were very difficult. . . I wanted to call, and go in so badly, yet somehow I managed to pick up the phone, and schedule the appointment for the next week... Monday at 9:30 is the day our lives will either be crushed, or consumed with amazing joy.
I've continued to be a recluse, no answering of phone calls, and no getting out of the house to visit people, basically I've been in a depressed state of mind, I haven't done housework, laundry... absolutely nothing, but sitting around watching movies. *sigh* I told Josh if this ends badly, that I'm going to drown my sorrows in a bottle of wine or vodka. . . And, I'm not even joking. Yes, I've proabbly made this harder on myself in some peoples eyes, but explaining to everyone I see what's going on is torture, because people are going to ask, and that's not their fault. People don't really know what to say, so making it so no one has to ask is easiest, for me and everyone else.
The viability of this pregnancy is the 1st and last thought on my mind each day. Some days I feel pregnancy symptoms, some day's I do not. Some days I feel good about the situation and other days I feel hopeless. . . Monday can't come fast enough, yet I'm scared to death. . .