Today marks my seventh week of pregnancy, if indeed that is what I am. My husband likes to remind me that I can only claim five weeks of this as the true post-conception period. It has been three weeks since I saw those two pink lines. One more week until our first ultrasound.
During our last pregnancy, we had our ultrasound at seven weeks and received the news that I had already miscarried, like we suspected. This time around, I am feeling a little more hopeful. My betas were strong and doubling, I am feeling constantly queasy and tired, and I have not even had a single spot of spotting.
I am trying not to think about what any of this means until after the ultrasound. I keep imagining alternative scenarios - will we see a thriving little bouncing bean, or will we see nothing but a still and silent sorrow?
Seven days to go.