Uncontrollable and a book recommendation

Other than a major emotional outburst, a horrible call from my ob/gyn appt. scheduler and a missed opportunity to see the Dal.ai L.ama, I seem to be doing fine.

The outburst was one I have come to recognize. It's the familiar feel of throat tightening and the threat of tears, while some part of my rational self is saying "I can't believe I am crying over something so stupid." And yet, I can NOT make it stop. The most recent one was at work. In front of other people. Oh well. I'm sure it won't be the last.

The scheduler's phone call was a real doozy. Why don't people think before they speak? She said, "I see you have an amnio scheduled for 15 weeks, two days. That may be too early, and the membrane may not yet be fused properly. Do you want to risk it or do you want to reschedule for the following week?" My mind is racing. "Do I want to RISK it? What do you think, you less than human creature of evil?" Hmmm...thinking logically and with my research in my back pocket I ask, "Won't they look at the membrane with an ultrasound before doing an amnio? What do you mean by RISK it?" Her response: "Well, some people can't get off work easily, and I just figured I'd ask." Ahh-so the "risk" was in reference to having to reschedule the amnio. I told her I would think about it, talk to my partner, talk to my doctor and talk to my amnio veteran girlfriends and get back to her, and in the future, maybe she should choose her words more carefully. Ok-actually, I just said "I'll call you back tomorrow," hung up the phone and burst into tears (big surprise, I know). I'm keeping my appt. for Monday.

I don't even want to write about the last thing I mentioned. Suffice it to say, it has ben drilled into my head since the day of the transfer to avoid overheating my oven. I was told no hot showers, no car seat warmers, call immediately if you have a fever. So, while I'm not worried about dying from the piggy flu (stole this name from one of my friends), I don't feel the need to expose myself to illness in the form of hanging out with thousands of people, however low the risk. After all, we are dealing with low risk numbers all the time and still obsessively freak out about them!

If you are still reading, I would like to say how lovely it is to tell your girlfriends you are pregnant and immediately belong to a club, receive advice, and be treated like a queen. My sister booked me a pregnancy massage and one friend whom I just told yesterday gave me a book off her shelf that I adore: _The Girlfriends' Guide to Pregnancy_. It has me laughing out loud and feeling like all my abnormalities are normal. At least until the next fear or insecurity sneaks up on me.