The Game of Waiting

I feel like I'm waiting for fate to punch me in the face.  Every time I feel the urge to pee, I panic.  What if there's blood?  What if I wipe and there's blood?!  It's enough to make a girl never want to pee again.

The symptoms are still around...sore boobs, bloating like a life raft.  But that's all there is.  No nausea, no nothing.  I'm feeling normal, except for the occasional tightness in my uterus, feeling like something's stretching or making room.

Every twinge of even the slightest pain makes me break into a cold sweat.  Every temperature drop makes my eye twitch.  If the pregnancy test comes back with a fainter line, I want to burst into tears.  I am a paranoid crazy person right now.  I probably will be pretty unbearable to be around until the ultrasound on the 31st.  

I'm distancing myself from happy.  I can't be happy.  It doesn't feel safe.  

Not that I'm superstitious or anything, but I picked up a face-up penny off a sewer grate today.  I also find myself being nicer to people I hate because I think maybe, just maybe, someone up there will have mercy on me and grant my wish for a healthy pregnancy.

And yes, I'm talking about Santa.