I thought you were gone, but you were just hiding- waiting to come back just when I thought I had you under control.
Never in my wildest dreams did I think you would become such a constant for me- especially throughout my entire pregnancy.
I assumed I would hear a heartbeat at 6 weeks and then never deal with you again.
The depth of my inaccuracy is alarming.
You consumed me week after week with every new trigger.
At first I just had to get to 12 weeks.
Then I heard of someone who miscarried at 17; so became my new milestone.
The next step was 20 weeks, which turned into 24, then 28.
It was like every week that passed, a new worry ensued.
You debilitated and consumed me.
Finally after 32 weeks, I felt calm. A sense of confidence awakened.
This was really happening. I was going to be ok and so was my baby.
At 35 weeks you showed your ugly face once again, but this time with a vengeance and overpowering fear.
It wasn’t that anything had happened to me or the baby- it was a stupid TV show.
That’s all it took to have me Googling the chances of stillbirth at delivery.
You came back, and I don’t know how long you’ll stay this time.
I do know this, anxiety, I will fight you. I will fight you every minute, because this baby and I deserve better.
You may have returned, but I wont let you win. I can’t.
For me and for him.
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