I called the practice where we'll be going and told them I was feeling anxious and they let me come in for a heart rate check this afternoon. The midwife who saw me was so incredibly nice and kind and was not judgmental in the slightest about my paranoia. She happily asked how I had been feeling, answered my questions about constipation (or as K calls it, poo poo anxiety), and let me hear the heartbeat. Which was strong and clear and sounded just like a little choo-choo train.
I'm so, so happy. This little guy really is in there, and is growing away. It's such a freaking miracle. And I just feel so blessed.
I will admit to feeling awkward about blogging about this pregnancy. Especially about my last post. So many of you have struggled so hard for so long and I've been feeling a sense of survivor's guilt. Especially since this is a result of the first round of Clomid. Granted, there were two years of alternative treatments and a surgery before the Clomid, but still. I don't know why I've been lucky and others haven't. If I could wave a magic wand and eliminate infertility for all of my friends, both on the internets and in real life, I would do it in an instant. It is so incredibly unfair.
I'll keep writing for now, but I don't know if anyone wants to keep reading. I know it's hard for many of you. I know when I first started reading blogs I was alternately annoyed when I came across pregnancy after infertility blogs and happy that so many people seemed to eventually get pregnant. If some of you want to disappear, I completely understand.