My constant nausea and narcoleptic like fatigue is all that's getting me through this experience with a shred of sanity.
I curl up in bed at night with a fresh-scented bar of soap to keep me from wanting to hurl. I am nodding off at my desk here at work, right now as I try to type this post.
All of this takes the edge off. I mean, sure, it's quite possible that when I head to my new OB's office on thursday we will see another dead baby on an ultrasound screen. I mean, it's me right?
But the fact that I feel terrible is by all reasoning, keeping the hope alive. And stopping my mind from wandering to the terrible, anxious places it can go.