I was up late last night, all agitated about things I knew wouldn’t bother me so much in the morning. It started with a cold, the kind that settles with a heavy gunky feeling in where I imagine my lungs to be, and I spent some time worrying about whether I would go see the doctor (and then he would say, as he did last time, “Suck it up, buttercup: it’s a cold,” and I would feel like a whiny hypochondriac) or not (and then it would turn out to be a horrible virus that would hurt the baby). While I was awake anyway, I started worrying about names for the new baby. Here we are halfway through the pregnancy and we have no frontrunners. That led me to worry about the ultrasound tomorrow (today): what if they can’t see if the baby is a boy or a girl? Then we’ll have to choose TWO names. When I was pregnant with the twins and had an ultrasound in the 18-20 week range, two technicians looked very carefully, and neither technician could even guess on either baby. Then I started worrying that I’d forget that I had an appointment and I’d miss it.

I feel better now in the morning light, but I’m still worried they won’t be able to tell me if the baby is a boy or a girl. It would be so disappointing to have to wait.