Doubt at 6w2d

I had a freak out of massive proportions yesterday. Actually, it started when I was laying in bed Monday night. I couldn't fall asleep so I did the next logical thing, which was obsess about my pregnancy symptoms. Or lack thereof. Within fifteen minutes, I had totally convinced myself that something must be terribly wrong.

I rolled over in bed, shook my husband's shoulder and said "I don't think I'm pregnant anymore!"

He responded by blinking away sleep and looking at me like I was insane.

"Seriously, I don't feel any different. Shouldn't I just "know" somehow that I was pregnant? Wouldn't I be able to tell?"

More blank stares. Thankfully, he quickly realized that this was not the response I was hoping for. He did his best to reassure me, and snuggled up next to me til I finally fell asleep.

Not to be defeated though, I continued on like this all day yesterday. Nervous and anxious. Worried and agitated. Then guilty and sad. Why can't I just be happy for god's sake? After all these years, I'm finally here and all I can do is fucking stress about it?

I sort of feel like I did a few days before my beta. Trying to stay positive about the possibilities of this happening before someone takes it away from me. Except this time, instead of them saying I'm sorry, your beta was negative they could say I'm sorry, there's no heartbeat. Which is worse? They both equally suck in their own way I guess.

Now I realize some of you may be thinking Oh please. Cry me a river on your pillow full of positive pregnancy tests and high beta numbers. I know. But these scars run so deep. I always thought the infertility journey would end once I finally saw those elusive two lines. But it doesn't end there. Not even close. It's so damn hard to let go of doubt and disbelief.

But I'm trying.

And that's the best I can do.