Anxious, so very anxious.

Two weeks from now is my follow up appointment with my OB/GYN.  We will be doing another PAP which will tell us if the precancerous cells are gone, the same, or growing.  And you'd think that would be the most terrifying part of it all, right?

The doctor is also going to do an ultrasound.  He's going to check for any cysts or fibroid.  My periods have been changing and some symptoms point at those possibilities.  Even that I am okay with.  We can treat those things.

We can't treat the anxiety I feel though.  The anxiety of having an ultrasound in that office.  I tried to talk the nurse into letting me go elsewhere, however they insisted on their ultrasound techs completing the scan.

I have to give her the benefit that she doesn't realize WHY it's such a big deal to me.  She doesn't realize that the last time I was in their ultrasound room I saw my son's motionless heart and had to accept my son was gone.  I let out the most primal, excruciating scream, one that I didn't even realize at that time belonged to me.  That room is the place part of me died.  Part of me shut down, went dark, and will never see light again. 

Of course that room also only holds bad news for me. So there is the anxiety that the evil machine will again reveal bad news.  Will it this time say I'm dying? Melodramatic, yes, but who'd have thought it would have provided that result last time?

I rationally know it's JUST A ROOM.  I rationally know it's not cursed, I'm not cursed.  I also know, rationally, that babies just shouldn't die.  And that, obviously, this world is far from rational and anything is possible.

I pray that the next two weeks pass quickly.  These migraines, nausea, and panic attacks need to leave with the passing time.  I need calm.  I need some good news and some encouragement. I need peace.

I just need it to be done.