Still Crazy (8w0d)

Still exhausted.
Still famished.
Still vaguely nauseated but not close to puking.
Still no breast issues to speak of (seriously, I swear they are smaller than they were last week).
Still no sense that this will actually work out.

And really no desire to be told that Peanut's okay by anyone other than Dr. Gorgeous.  Because really.  Good intentions are nice and all but they have no direct access to the lifeform in my uterus.  Which might, for all anyone knows, really truly be dead.  Yes, I realize this is the talk of Crazy.  But every study I can get my hands on, not to mention my own previous experience, suggests that this pregnancy is very precarious indeed.

So I find myself in a very odd space, wanting to enjoy my ever-expanding waistline and every wave of nausea and not really trusting any of it.  This is harder than I ever imagined.  And I don't suppose it was helped any by having 4 of 7 blood tests say very bad things, even if those things can be explained by The Evil Twin.  And every ultrasound I've had just scrapes by:  sac present but small, heartbeat but low, etc.  I'm terrified in a way I think I only was the week before LG was born when she wasn't moving and my doctor was talking about stillbirth and having me monitored at L&D for hours on end.  Complete powerlessness over what's going on in my body.  That's hard enough for a few hours, and it's really been the state of my life for 4+ weeks now.

I don't get blissed out I-just-saw-two-lines pregnant people.  They are lucky.  And they have no fucking clue how lucky they are.