When you’ve had as many miscarriages as I have, you start to get paranoid about feeling those early pregnancy symptoms; if they aren’t overwhelming and making you miserable, you instantly start to panic and think, “This is it, I’m losing this one, too.”

I didn’t really notice my symptoms yesterday, because it was a crazy day at work (worked late for the second day in a row trying to meet a couple of deadlines). I was so worn out from work itself that I couldn’t even pay attention to the usual pregnancy stuff–sure, I was tired, but that’s to be expected when you’re busting your butt to meet a deadline. Sure, I felt a little queasy, but I’d also had some tense exchanges with a couple of people that would’ve set any anxious gal’s stomach a-fluttering. And I went to bed early, as I have every night for the past month, not thinking much of pregnancy but rather thinking of how crazy work had been.

So when I woke up this morning and didn’t immediately feel pukey and achy, a little bit of panic set in. I hadn’t been paying attention yesterday; had my symptoms been gradually fading into oblivion? Was I going to have to sheepishly delete my “Babies #2 and 3” album on Facebook and write another entry on miscarriage? Would I spend the weekend chugging moscato and Cosmos and drowning my sorrows?

Well… no.

I had some breakfast once I got downstairs (not an easy feat–Sam was in a very friendly mood this morning; more on that later), and it only took about three bites, plus a sip of cranberry juice, for the nausea to return with a vengeance. Crisis averted, time to go back to whining about how sick I feel (the answer? Very).

(I wish this could be me, I would love to be horizontal right now)

So in terms of emotions, I’m basically vacillating between paranoia at the idea of miscarrying and panic at the fact that I’m less than seven months away from having two newborns. I’m having such a hard time wrapping my head around the latter that I can hardly begin to plan things, which is a fine kettle of fish because I love planning things. I just don’t know where to start is, I think, the main problem. I know what we need, in theory, and I know that it’s going to be a lot of investment in Things, but it’s also pretty overwhelming.

A lot of it was easier to think about when we were thinking of just one baby because so much of the planning involved recycling what we used with Sam: one crib with its mattress already there, one pack ‘n play, one set of baby clothes (though if you think I wouldn’t buy more clothes if it turned out we were having a girl, you’re a little crazy), one this, one that. Now recycling won’t cover what we need; we’ve got to get double of everything. One more crib and mattress, more baby clothes, two car seats, two of this, two of that. It’s… overwhelming.

Less overwhelmed is Sam, who’s reacting to the fact of becoming a big brother with something between apathy and excitement. Most of the time, it’s apathy because I don’t think he entirely understands what’s happening yet. Occasionally, he gets excited. He pokes my stomach to try and “talk” to the babies (when he’s feeling more impish, he leans back on me to “squish” the babies) and asks if he can come with me to the doctor to see the babies (which is basically going to be impossible until I’m a lot further along  because all of my ultrasounds are pretty much going to be really early in the morning).

He’s making the transition from junior preschool to preschool, and it’s mostly going well, finally. The first couple of days, Sam was really nervous about the change–he hates change overall, and school-related change is the absolute worst. He cried every day at drop off and told us that he didn’t like preschool, that he thought the teacher didn’t like him, that he was afraid of the bigger kids because they play too rough, etc.

Gradually, though, he’s started to enjoy himself. I dropped him off yesterday (because Kyle is having car trouble, as is customary in the fall) and he was all smiles and excitement, talking about playing in the sand table and how happy he was to see his friends. When I got home from work, he was all smiles, cuddles, and giggles. He was really glad to have been at school, told me that he had a great day (compared to his “wonderful” day the day before), and I’m glad. Transitions are hard for a three-year-old, and he’s got a lot coming up.

Sometimes I worry about how this is affecting him, because it’s one thing to be gung ho about having a lot of kids when you don’t have any, and it’s another when you’re planning to add a sibling to a family dynamic that already exists. Part of me gets really nervous that changing up the dynamic of our family will cause him serious issues, but then I remember, “oh yeah, I had two younger siblings, and I’m mostly okay.” It’s just a different perspective, at the end of the day.

I miss spending more time with him; my weekends end up being completely derailed by how tired I am, the fatigue resulting in a 2-3 hour nap for me every Saturday and Sunday (I’d take one every day of the week, but for some reason, my office isn’t okay with that). When I am up, I feel bad because I’m overall feeling so crappy that playing with Sam is just completely outside of my capabilities, at least in most of the ways he wants to play.

He’s so very sweet about it, too. He tries to find ways to make me more comfortable and capable of playing with him, and some of those methods work (e.g., bringing a table over so that we can play a game together) and some don’t (putting a pillow on the floor so that I can sit with him). He understands that I’m not at my best right now, and he’s doing everything he can to accommodate me, and that’s sweet.

This morning, he tried to keep me from going to work by “locking” the door (he actually unlocked it) and demanding “one more hug” and “one more kiss” until I finally had to pry him off and tell him I’d see him tonight. If nothing else, I’m really looking forward to those couple of months between me leaving my job and the twins being born where Sam and I can have our days together like we used to. He’s such a sweet boy.

Anyway. First proper prenatal appointment tomorrow, next ultrasound on October 4. Until then…