So now that I’m between ultrasounds — a phrase I never thought I’d be able to say — I’ve had a bit of time to calm down from my last appointment and reassess. A few commenters (and friends in real life) called me out for being too harsh on my embryo and giving it a complex about being lazy before it’s even reached 7 weeks. Y’all were totally right about this; I mean, obviously I am kidding when I call a bunch of cells a lazy-ass, but it’s occurred to me that this is all a defence mechanism. Having dealt with my hopes being crushed by an ectopic last year, I decided to blame that embryo because my doctor said it was most likely just a bad egg that got sticky at the wrong time. But then, I clearly developed a mistrust of ALL my embryos — like they were ALL hell-bent on causing me pain when I least expected it. Because of this, I’ve been trying to not get too emotionally attached, to not even acknowledge this heartbeat inside me as a “real” heartbeat.

This isn’t right, though. It’s not fair to this little guy (I’m convinced it’s a boy) who’s clearly trying to do its best to grow. So it’s time I learn to respect the embryo, regardless of the outcome. I may not get carried away and start buying pregnancy books or maternity clothes, but at the very least, I am going to try harder to relax and have faith. Like that scene in Mean Girls, I have to own up to my unnecessary criticisms, apologize and know that if I were to close my eyes and fall back, my embryo would catch me. Wait, shit, that could actually turn out really bad. YOU KNOW WHAT I’M TRYING TO SAY HERE!