The Fear

I had my booking appointment today. It was strange because obviously in my head I'm only 7 weeks but in their books because I didn't track my periods effectively, there's the potential I'm 12 weeks and they can't risk breaching their deadlines and protocols and whatnot. So my bloods are done and my booking appointment is done. I have my pink notes. I've ordered a new bag so I can carry them round (unlike last time when they were folded in half and destroyed). I have ordered maternity jeans and a big comfy bra and a maternity coat because already mine hurts when zipped up. But I have my scan tomorrow. My dating scan but not officially a dating scan, my "should be 12 weeks but we all know you're not but we have to be on the safe side and scan you anyway" scan. And I'm terrified. Absolutely terrified. Terrified it will be ectopic. Terrified it will be molar. Terrified there will be nothing there at all. So I'm prepared. But not. I don't think it's something you can actually prepare yourself for.And so I will just sit here feeling sick and moody and terrified. And come tomorrow even if it is there, and there is a heartbeat and everything there's supposed to be I know that feeling won't properly go until I'm sat with a baby in my arms at Christmas. And even then I'll worry about GBS and cot death and meningitis and crossing roads and pre-school and school and college and parties and drugs and evil strangers and all the rest of it. It never goes away.