I've waited eight years to get pregnant with our second child. Eight years of prayers, hoping and negative pregnancy tests. Three days after my 36th birthday I got my first positive test. Now I'm not awaiting a baby that's supposed to be due in September, but for a miscarriage. It could happen tomorrow of it can happen in two weeks.
Just like that, a joy was turned into anxiety that's now confirmed as I wait for this miscarriage to happen. My feelings are extreme, raw and mean. I feel a bit betrayed, lied to and abused. I still have to go through work and life as if nothing is happening. I was waiting to announce the pregnancy with anticipation, but now a miscarriage in dread.
My last thoughts are that I am thankful I found out at 7 weeks and not at 10 weeks because every day makes a difference when the go-line is at 12 weeks. I know that I can say, hey at least I finally got pregnant and know that I finally can, but that this moment the pain is too much that those words are more like a sword to my heart.
I waited for eight years to get pregnant and I get to wait some more. Yay me...