Today I feel pretty good. I think I always feel better the day of the ultrasound. I get gradually more uptight leading up to each one. So much fear that I will go in and the heart won't be beating or the growth will have stopped. Amazing Daddy just doesn't understand why I do this.
Of course, he also doesn't understand why I called him at work this morning asking him where The Boy's fucking shoes were, and why I think it's his responsibility to make sure I can find them in the morning. Then he made some comment about how tired he was, to which I responded "you're tired? You're tired? You think YOU are tired?" He may be a little scared to come home tonight.