Six Weeks Two Days

Today we're at six weeks and two days.  Morgan, our gestational surrogate, is reporting that she's "sea sick" most of the day, tired in the afternoons, and craving steaks and pickles.  I am sorry Morgan is feeling nauseated, since I don't want her to experience discomfort; however, the changes in her body are keeping the pregnancy real.  As in, this is really happening!  It's reassuring to hear stories of her pregnancy woes, since it means our boy(s) are growing.

On Friday, the day before seven weeks, we will have our first sonogram to determine if one or both of the embryos are growing inside her sacred womb.  I'm both excited and nervous.

I'm nervous enough that I have to ask myself: Is it possible that something physically changing in me too?  Ever since our doctor transferred two embryos into Morgan I've become hyperaware of stories of miscarriages, stillbirths, and wombs going empty.   I've become my late grandmother Peaches: worry, worry, worry!  On Saturday night I kept having a dream that our doctor couldn't find anything in Morgan's womb.  It was a ridiculous dream.

I was speaking to my father this weekend about my newly discovered craziness.

Me: I'm sure I'll stop worrying once we hit 20 weeks, right?  No wait...I'm sure I'll stop worrying once they arrive, right?

My father:  No, you'll worry about them the rest of your life.

Me: That's what everyone keeps telling me!