Constantly caught between sheer joy and happiness that I get to experience another pregnancy, crippling fear and anxiety over the possibility of baby's heart not beating, and disgust with the puffiness of my belly and lack of motivation.

I want so hard to just live in the happiness. This is the farthest I've made it in a pregnancy (8+5) since my son, but I cant seem to make it past the fear some days, and others I just want to skip past the first trimester entirely and get to the cute baby bump and the long awaited movements and kicks of the baby.

I told myself I was going to enjoy every day, even the bad ones. Is this what pregnancy after loss is like? 😔