I’ve been wavering back and forth a lot today, all while going rapidly insane waiting for next Wednesday. Part of me starts freaking out about things like blighted ovum and all of the other negative things that I could find at the ultrasound.
After that, I sometimes swing back to the optimistic. I start listing my symptoms as a way to convince myself that this could really be happening. Occasional waves of (mild, thankfully) nausea; heavy, enlarged, tender boobs; and some of the more subtle ones, like sensitivity to smell; disrupted sleep; slightly more frequent trips to the bathroom. Oh, and that whole “no period in more than seven weeks” thing. 
And then I swing right back to crabby-as-all-hell. I can’t concentrate at work, since all I can think about is pregnant or not pregnant. All I can do is practically count the hours to the ultrasound, poke around the Babycenter bulletin boards, look at maternity clothes, and play with various permutations of my favorite due date calculator (it lets you easily figure out things like “on what day will I be 20 weeks?”). I imagine ways to tell my parents and friends. And yet, the fact that I feel paralyzed on ALL of this, feeling like I don’t have any solid confirmation, is driving me positively batty. My poor husband is trying hard to be sympathetic and understanding, but that sadly doesn’t help my mood. It’s going to be a rough week, waiting for this darn ultrasound…
