Born Worrier + Miscarriage =

Paranoia....

Following the miscarriage in October, my capacity to agonize about all things reproductive has increased to dizzying proportions. This is not good, since worrying is a genetic predisposition in my family, and I got extra helpings of that gene. Now I'm like a worrying superhero: "Faster than a 911 call. More powerful than a box of kleenex. Able to leap to dire conclusions in a single bound. Look! It's a cloud; it's a pain... it's WorryWoman!"

And it doesn't take much to get WorryWoman to don her cape. Yesterday I got my period. It's the first potentially ordinary period since the D&C. Before this there were the days of endless bleeding followed by an eternity of sludgy spotting in October, then nothing, nada, zip until last month - but last month's period turned out to be more like a miscarriage of the remaining molar tissue - and that's a story for another post.

Anyway, I digress, which I assume you're used to by now. I was talking about the bleeding that started yesterday. WorryWoman has a sidekick, HyperAttentive Gal, who is capable of noticing even the most trivial of details, and HAG was on the alert as soon as my period began:

• I didn't spot before it started. I always used to have a teeny bit of warning spotting. But this just started with bona fide bleeding!
• My dead giveaway PMS symptoms were missing. I wasn't craving potato chips and other junk. [That's because you were ALREADY EATING tons of crap! - Ed.] I didn't think everyone hates me!
• Day 2 was always my heavy flow day with accompanying cramps. This time I barely bled until Day 3!

WW's ears had perked up at the first shrill warnings from HAG, and by the time HAG got rolling, WW had leapt to the logical conclusion that SOMETHING MUST BE WRONG. So imagine her terror when the bleeding today just kept getting heavier and heavier.

The small part of my brain that WW and HAG haven't totally colonized is trying to maintain a sense of calm and rationality, noting that this really is only the first period I'm having since the hormones and wayward cells ran rampage over my uterus, and it's only logical that it might not be exactly like my periods before the pregnancy and the mole. The sane voice in my head (is that an oxymoron?) also says that these are not exactly terrifying symptoms (unlike warm, red, infectious streaks running up your arm). Today's heaviest bleeding is nowhere near the level that would require medical attention. Even so, WW is on the job, fretting anxiously away.

When you get down to it, I think that all the worrying is a substitution for, or an outgrowth of, frustration. Frustration at being reminded yet again that I am not in control. Although the drama and crap have subsided, things are still not "normal" with my body. Part of me wants to scream, "Yo, universe! Cut it out! We get the message already." But a part of me recognizes that clearly I haven't really learned the lesson or I'd be more, well, sanguine about such developments. (Sorry, couldn't resist.)

Anyway, all you denizens of blogland can rest easy tonight knowing that Worry Woman and Hyper Attentive Gal are on the job (keeping me from resting easily).