Tic Toc.

I feel like I have tics in my head. The time left in the vertical world is rapidly passing. I'm feeling just a bit anxious about this bed rest. R and I have begun the apartment modifications necessary...but it's still not giving me a peaceful feeling. I keep waking in the night with too many tears to count. Dreams of my babies filling my head. Both good and bad dreams. I know this is just a clear sign of the anxiety I feel when I am awake but it always throws me. I know it must throw R to be woken up in the darkness to the sound of sobs. I live for these doctor appointments but can barely breathe until I hear the words "Everything looks great." That holds me over for mere hours before the tics start up again. I'll be 18 weeks on Sunday. Last year all hell broke loose at 19 weeks. How the hell will I make it through the next two weeks? What the hell was I thinking when we did ivf #3 in December? I'm just three days off where I was last year. I feel like a walking time bomb. At any moment things could just explode again.

I guess I'm just desperately wanting to feel sure. And for all logical reasons I cannot allow myself to feel sure about anything when it comes to my body. This is such a tough moment in my life. So many anniversaries or milestones hitting me all at once. 4 years trying to have a baby, 1 year since losing Tess & Oliver, making it to 20 weeks in this pregnancy. It all feels like so much. I'm exhausted by trying to look at things and turn them into a positive. It feels unreal, fake. Underneath all the "I'm going to enjoy the five months in bed. When will I ever have this much time to myself EVER again?" I could give you a long list of these thoughts...but underneath it all it's not how I truly feel. Underneath it all I am terrified. I just want to feel sure. I want to read ahead to the last chapter of this book and KNOW that everything will be fine. I want to believe that there will be a happy ending but right now I just can't. And dammit it fucking hurts.