Yesterday I felt sick. So sick. I could barely make it through Whole Foods without gagging at all the smells, and that’s unusual because Whole Foods is a home away from home. I was elated–there was the elusive morning sickness that I never had with the first two pregnancies. I felt sure that this was a sign that things were going well.

If you’ve had a miscarriage before, you probably obsessively check for spotting. I do, at least. Last night, a few hours after we walked home from Whole Foods, I had some. It was a trace amount, but still enough to scare the living daylights out of me. It was a tearful, terrifying night, and every time I went to the bathroom my stomach lurched. I planned to call the doctor first thing this morning.

After that first bit, there has been nothing. No cramping, no spotting. That’s good. I decided not to call the doctor this morning. If something is happening, there’s nothing she can do this early, and if everything actually is okay, I don’t want to deal with the risks of an ultrasound. Basically, I’m waiting. Again. I feel like the last two years have just been a long stream of waiting, so I suppose I can wait a few more days.

Don’t get me wrong–if there is more, or any pain at all, I’m calling right away and will insist on testing. For now, though, I’m renting movies, staying hydrated, and laying low. And, of course the movie I got is a little heart wrenching. The Geek wonders if we watch darker movies during worrisome times so that we can displace some of the anxiety and pretend that the worry is for the characters and not ourselves. Maybe?

I’m concerned, but calm, and convinced that everything is okay until it absolutely isn’t. We’ve been through the worst more than once and come through it all even more in love and determined.

I’m also intensely craving yeast (the yeastier, the better) rolls, but they don’t appear to be sold here. It must be a Southern thing. I reckon (yeah, had to throw that in) we’ll just have see about fixing some up all on our own.