Jena was staying with my parents yesterday, so Jason & I enjoyed a mini-date. Dinner at a local restaurant, followed by walking the mall and window shopping.
Such a great day.
We talked about how we would tell Jena. How she's gonna be so over-the-moon excited about having a "Little BruverSister", as she calls her pretend siblings.
Discussed how & when to tell our families. Approximated a due date, discussed my leave from work.
As we were walking the mall, we ducked into every children's store there, hoping to find a "Big Sister" t-shirt.
And then, still walking the mall, upper deck... I felt something.
I told Jason I needed to go to the bathroom.
"Again?" he teased. Then seeing the look on my face, he said "What's wrong?"
We took the escalator down to the lower level, the nearest bathroom.
I pulled down my pants, and there it was. Blood. Just a spot, but... too much.
I sobbed. Because the minute I felt the wetness in my pants, I knew. And there it was. Proof.
I stuffed toilet paper in my pants, found Jason waiting for me, and told him we needed to go home.
And I cried.
I didn't have any cramps last night, but I've had some mild ones this morning. And the spotting hasn't stopped. Not enough for me to call it "bleeding", but... enough. Too much.
According to Dr. Google, unless there's a lot of blood or I'm in a lot of pain, I should wait until office hours to call the doctor. Because it's either normal spotting, or a miscarriage, and there's nothing they can do either way.
And so... I wait. And spot. And sometimes cry.