I can't believe that I am pregnant. Everyday I promise myself that I am going to stop waiting for the other shoe to drop, that I am going to enjoy myself, but I can't. I guess it's magical thinking that keeps me in this state. I firmly believe that if I worry about it enough and go through all the worst case scenarios that I can prevent bad things from happening. I promise myself that after the next ultrasound I'll relax, but I know that the next ultrasound will just lead to the next and the next and the next. Soon it will be, "I'll relax when the baby's here" that will probably turn into "I'll just go ahead and and relax when I'm dead." I wish I could turn my brain off...and yes I am in therapy and working on all my anxiety issues! Unfortunately, I rationalize all my worst-case scenarios by telling myself that I've had a miscarriage, bad things happen to good people, and I'm not out of the first trimester yet.
MH and I don't really even talk about having a real live baby with each other. It seems too risky. Once again I've managed to completely ruin what should be one of the happiest times of my life. I really hate myself sometimes. Sigh.
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