In Which the Sharks Linger on the Horizon and Then Go Away But Their Spirit Still Lingers

I have the most faboo and interesting blog. In my head. I swear to you, I've been writing every day but I just haven't made it to the computer to get it out on the screen. I've written about fathers, family, selling the house, building the next house, my classes, this kid in my belly-- You name it, I've had a post.

But at the same time, I've been battling off this depression and feelings of fear about the kid, aka "Cricket." I was so sick and tired last week, I burst into tears on Tuesday night before my class because Partner could not find a Tim Hortons for me. I really wanted some tea. Then I posted about my sickness, and all the comments helped put me at ease, but then I wondered why I needed so much assurance? It's like I have no brain lately. I called the RE office, who told me to call my PCP if I was really worried. Um, I guess I called you because I was really worried? I let the whole thing go, monitored my fever which never went above 101, and got better fairly quickly. I have the remnants of the cold (you know what I mean), but I feel like a new woman. However, soon after being sick like that, I was convinced that Cricket was gone.

The cats, who had not been walking on my stomach since right after the transfer, were suddenly all over me again. Was it animal intuition?

Then Friday morning I got sick. I guess it was the kid saying, "Don't doubt me now, Mama!" I somehow thought I was going to get through this without having the throwing up too. I guess the animals really don't know jack either. They must have just been in a phase.

I mostly get my morning sickness in the evening and usually eating a Saltine cures it up fast, but not last night. We were coming home from class, and I had a coughing fit, which triggered the nausea to a greater degree and I told Partner I thought I was going to be sick. It was a vague feeling, but I went looking through the truck anyway for a receptacle. One small sandwich bag with a Saltine left in it. It came in handy, although between retches I had to try and indicate to Partner she should roll up the windows and put on the a/c because other drivers at the red light we were stopped at thought I was pretty interesting. I was pretty self conscious. We live in a college town, and happened to be right by the stadium. In my head, other people were imagining me as a drunk co-ed throwing up after imbibing too much. Of course, I could be flattering myself that anyone really would like I was a co-ed.

And let's just say, I really wish there were some opaque sandwich bags. And that's all we'll say about that topic now.

Today was the eight week ultrasound, and it couldn't have come at a better time. The kid was still there, much bigger than last time-- about 1.6 centimeters. There's a head and some little arm and leg like things. I was almost positive they were going to kick us out today, but I get to go back at least two more times before they make me leave! Dr. BusyBusyBusy does not like to use the Doppler in the first trimester, and pretty much I respect that decision, so we haven't heard the heart yet, but we can see it. I could have watched for hours. But don't forget he's busy! So we were in and out. The next appointment we get to discuss "weaning" from the meds. I'm not ready to wean.

The only thing I'm not totally ready to discuss is the perinatologist he's recommending. But this is brewing and percolating and simmering and all those other cooking metaphors one uses to indicate that you're grappling with something difficult and hard to think about. This is where I can still see the shadows of the phantom sharks in the water. And I'm ready to be done with sharks now.