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Diary of a Mad Pregnant Woman

10:00 AM

I've been getting that old feeling again, like I'm depressed. I think of things I'm grateful for, then I go right back to worrying about the baby. I'm exhausted. It's all I want to talk about and I feel like no one wants to hear about it anymore. I don't want to get out of bed. I just lie there until my uncontrollable hunger forces me to get up. Side note: First trimester some women get morning sickness and have no appetite, but not me. I'm starving to death when I wake up—I mean, like, RAVENOUS. Once while I was microwaving oatmeal I had to eat a bowl of cereal because I just couldn't wait the one minute. Then in the evening nothing sounds good to eat and I feel like barfing until I'm suddenly starving and I only want potatoes. Pregnancy is some weird-ass shit. But when I start to feel resentful of the symptoms, I feel guilty because I'm pregnant—and I want to be pregnant, so I should be grateful for these yucky feelings.

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11:00 AM

The holidays are not helping. When have the holidays ever helped anything really? Oh lordy, I'm turning into a real Grinch, which is way out of character for me. But I've been gently and kindly informed by my therapist that I am having a normal emotional response. Going through a miscarriage is terrible, conceiving after one is frightening, throw in the hormonal psycho cocktail that is early pregnancy, stir in the pressure of having a happy holiday and you've got a recipe for emotional upheaval. I suppose it is understandable that I might be feeling less than holly jolly. The worst part is, I love Christmas, I love that my marriage came with the bonus of getting to celebrate Hanukkah. I love presents and soy egg nog and decorating the tree. I love cookies (eating, not baking) and I love being with my family. I love that my father-in-law lives in Florida so we can get away from the cold and swim on Christmas Day. I love that my parents are flying down from New York to join us in Florida. I have so much to be grateful for but I still cry at the drop of a hat. I'm still terrified of what will be on my ultrasound today.

She asked if I would feel reassured by our upcoming genetic testing. I shook my head again. I told her I don't think I will feel reassured until the baby is born.

2:00 PM

I just got back from the doctor and the baby is in there with a strong fast heartbeat and measuring just right. He kicked his tiny legs and we saw his little feet and it was the most beautiful heartbreaking thing I've ever seen. The doctor wanted to know if I felt relieved with the good ultrasound today and I shook my head. She asked if I would feel reassured by our upcoming genetic testing. I shook my head again. I told her I don't think I will feel reassured until the baby is born. She expressed concern because she wants me to enjoy the pregnancy—it's almost a year and it will be a long one if I'm sad and worried the entire time. And she's right. I can't go on like this. I want to be happy and hopeful. I want to write funny pregnancy stories about foods that don't make you puke and what kind of leggings you can rock as your jeans head to the back of the closet. I want to tell people I'm pregnant and be able to accept their congratulations without saying, "I lost the first one, so we're nervous."

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The doctor said my miscarriage doesn't make me any different from any other pregnant lady in the office, meaning I have just as much of a chance to carry this child to term. And at this stage (9 weeks) my risk of miscarriage is greatly diminished. So for now the baby is fine, my husband and I are headed to Florida for the holidays and I can look forward to buying a giant bathing suit at Wal-Mart, because my wedding bikini ain't gonna fit. When we get back I can worry about my advanced maternal age. I may not be happy and hopeful yet, but I'm gonna fake it 'til I make it—so happy Hanukkah, merry Christmas and have a happy New Year!

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