I am now almost 7 weeks pregnant, and there are thoughts I never would have thought I would've had once I found out I was pregnant. I thought that finding out that I was pregnant would be a joyous occasion and there would be nothing but 9 months of emotional happiness. So far, I find myself paranoid that I am going to inevitably have a miscarriage. This paranoia has increased since I have been spotting in weeks 5 and 6. Each time I go to the bathroom and see spotting, it's a devastating blow which leads to wild unanswered questions. I wonder if I have already miscarried. Am I still even pregnant? I haven't really had any real pregnancy symptoms. If I miscarry undetected, how long would it take a pregnancy test to say "not pregnant"?
I've Googled so many things like "spotting during pregnancy" "painless miscarriages" and "% of women that spot during pregnancy". This might all make me feel better if there were someone I could talk to. I've already made my doctor's appointment, but doctors don't typically see you until 9 or 10 weeks pregnant. My 1st appointment is 2 weeks away and it seems like a lifetime to wait.
I've decided not to tell my family until after the first doctor's appointment. I want to make sure that the baby is alive and fine before I tell them. I probably won't tell the general public until my 1st trimester is over. That would be in mid-August.
So I carry around this big secret that only Javier and I know. He's been helpful to talk to but it doesn't take the place of your mother or sister or any woman who has been pregnant before. I think I may need a support group for this.
This past weekend was Father's day, and the family reunited at my Dad's house. We carried on so normally that I almost forgot that I was even pregnant. My dad couldn't stop talking about our recent trip to Japan & China, Stephanie had come back from Vegas and had a small hangover, and Will was catching a cold. I worried that I should not catch his cold, but it would be difficult because we live in the same house.
Javier was not able to attend the get-together, but my mother passed me his Father's day gift, because he is already a father. The gift was in a bag with the image of a dog all over it. My parents love to find pictures of my dog's breed and pull them out of magazines, etc. Inside was a shirt and a framed picture of a dog wearing glasses that read, "We had to get rid of the kids because the dog was allergic". I quietly laughed at the irony of the picture - they have no idea.