Negatively Positive

So it happened again, and this time, I am somewhere between apathy and anger.

I didn't really think it was going to happen this soon, did I?

Maybe I was hoping it would. I didn't prevent it, did I? Last time I tried on purpose it didn't work. This wasn't an 'on purpose', but a 'whatever'.

Maybe getting away from the stress of my job for a week was what it needed to settle in. This is the second time in 6 months I've come back from vacation pregnant. Good thing I got pat downs this time, both ways.

It's only at the 5 week point right now. It was 6 weeks last time when things went wrong, so I guess we'll wait and see.

I look over at the supplement powder I bought when I was in California and realize I can't have it now. It has ingredients that may possibly in some universe be potentially harmful. It pisses me off. What a waste of money. I'll have to wait who knows how long to enjoy it. I even had coconut drink in the fridge, waiting for it. That's all gone now, at least.

And I really want a Diet Coke. I know how bad it is for me, but I want one. Just one. It's more of a risk now than it will be in a few weeks, but part of me doesn't care. Last time, I didn't have a drop of caffeine the entire time and it didn't matter. I feel like I should be able to eat and drink and smoke whatever I want (I don't smoke, but that sounded good), because last time I was perfect and it died anyway. So who gives a fuck.

It's the hormones. That's what everyone says. The hormones, they can cause depression as well as anger and sadness and everything else attributed to pregnant women. They make me worry over every little twinge in my abdomen that happens when I turn a certain way. Every little pink spot sends me into a panic.

I got my blood checked yesterday, because I saw a spot on Monday and it was too late to be implantation bleeding. The doctor said everything looked normal, so as of now, no impending miscarriage, no disaster, no reason to worry.

But there's always a reason to worry. Life is proof of that. And it doesn't matter how much I worry, because it's basically out of my hands anyway. It's the complete lack of control that freaks me out, not knowing if I should just go ahead and have my Diet Coke because in a couple of weeks it'll be gone.

There is hope that once I pass the six week mark my anxiety will fade away and I'll start to enjoy this. Well, maybe enjoy isn't the right word. Just being able to be positive would be nice, but I don't have it in me right now. Half the day when I'm at work I'm trying desperately to stay awake, and the other half I want to strangle my customers and co-workers. I'm feeling the familiar bodily discomforts that tell me my hormones are doing what they should. And when I'm home, well...

My bed is soft, and I have to practice sleeping with that stupid body pillow I bought, anyway.