So, I've been coasting along in this second pregnancy, never worried a bit. Well - worried a bit, but compared with last pregnancy, hardly worried AT ALL.
Probably 29 of 30 days in a month are worry-free. But I always get myself worked up the day before my monthly appointment. What if something's wrong? What if they can't hear a heartbeat? What if - in the case of tomorrow's appointment - they can't see all four chambers of the heart? (More happily, I can't wait to find out if I'll be buying pink or recycling much-loved blue baby clothes.)
And of course, on this day before the 20-week ultrasound, I read something about Asperger's Syndrome. And how stress of coping with autism-related spectrum disorder it may or may not have contributed to the demise of Penelope Trunk's marriage. I religiously read PT's blog, Brazen Careerist, and relate to her drive, ambition and work ethic. So my heart broke for her, and a little for me, and maybe for this healthy (I hope) child in me, as I read her post regarding her marriage, blogging, and the New York Times article.
I'm almost positive things are going to be fine tomorrow. But I can't help get a teeny bit worked up in spite of it.
