I feel like I'm walking on egg shells. And that I'm an eggshell. And that my world is made of eggshells.
In other words, everything seems fragile and breakable to me. Fragile, but not broken.
My mood has not improved. It's a horrible cycle. I'm in a bad mood, I feel horrible for being in a bad mood which makes me feel worse. I try to convince myself I have so many reasons to be happy and hopeful. My evil shadow self reminds me I have reasons to be fearful and moody, too. Normal me starts to worry and wonders how I'm going to make it to Friday which causes me to be more moody and question ever twinge and feeling and second of my day.
Since I do it almost by the minute in my head, but never write it or even say it out loud, I guess I'll do a quick symptoms check:
Moodiness, minor fatigue, trouble sleeping, vivid dreams (Last night I dreamed my husband was a graffiti artist who I seduced), some nausea(although not enough that I'm fully convinced it's not in my head), cravings (I keep trying to say that I don't, but after I ate my third cucumber in two days and ordered lemons at dinner last night, I think it's pointless to keep arguing it), ill fitting clothing, and an aversion to drinking water.
I keep comparing this pregnancy to previous pregnancies and I think that's probably normal. But it seems so weird to psych myself out about it. "Well last time I ____..." I don't want a repeat of last time! But I don't feel pregnant enough. I don't feel sick enough.
I see the doctor Friday. My husband and I were discussing how neither of us can imagine him giving bad news. He calls me Aim, he drums on the chart with his fingers while reading it, he listens to Guns n Roses in his office, singing along happily. Let's hope we never have to find out...