I think Spot is out as a candidate for a nickname. I’m becoming way too hateful of the gerund form of the word, as it…continues. In a very unnerving similarity of timing to the last time around, there was….redness, several hours after the great scan on Tuesday night. Not a lot, but more than I’d like to see, of course. I’d stopped at my parents’ house, shared the good news and showed off the pictures from the scan. We dropped off prescriptions and went out to eat to celebrate. Picked up the scripts and headed home, where I continued to spread the good news electronically as far as it’s spreading at this point. Like grim clockwork, as I get ready to go to bed I see it. I tried not to freak out and did pretty well, but…for fuck’s sake, you know? Realistically, I’m on blood thinners, and perhaps mister wandy exacerbated some irritation from the progesterone supplementation, so I’m willing to believe it’s “normal” and not indicative of doom. It slowed way down overnight Tuesday and is back to the much less scary brownishness, but it would be even less scary if it would just STOP. Does it really seem like too much to ask? Don’t answer that.
I did a lot of staring at the pictures from the scan that night, but I haven’t opened that folder since. I’m keeping both panic and (to a lesser extent) attachment at bay as much as I can for now. I think I’ll wait until Tuesday again to settle on a nickname. Still being optimistic that I’ll need one, but the reality of seeing spots is unsettling at best. I’ve gotten some fun suggestions outside of the comments here (Dino, Lizzy, for reptilian attributes), and I’m still hoping we’ll get to (and well beyond) the Cletus the Fetus stage, but right now I’m leaning toward Frankie. It’s my little monster and I really want to see that heartbeat again on Tuesday and be able to say, IT’S ALIIIIIVE! and also,