A pretty great thing happened this weekend. Scary, heavy bleeding slowed to occasional spotting. Sushi and shots for everyone!
There is still blood, just not very much. I've been down-graded from 1950s mattress-style pads to liners. And still, I do not know what this means. I know it's not bad news but it doesn't mean things are going as they should. Obviously they're not. But I shall try to revel in things going better.
An attractive side effect of this roller coaster has been my constant need to check what's going on down there. As of Sunday, I was dropping trou in my kitchen with frequency to make sure there wasn't a blood bath in my sweat pants. (You know I didn't dress myself properly this weekend.) I am now back at the office and am pretty sure that exposing myself, even in the privacy of my own cubicle, would be frowned upon.
Despite the humor, I am frankly afraid to write and publish this post. I feel as though typing it is tempting fate. I'll click "publish" and the bloody flood gates will open. That is not how science works. I know that.
By the way, I am 5 weeks pregnant today. A new personal record.