I know I'm not suppose to worry. It's not healthy, it's unproductive, it doesn't change what's happening. Or what's going to happen. Or even what has already happened. Heck, me, myself, and I wrote an entire post about why I shouldn't worry .  You'd think I would at least take my own advice if not The Husband's or friends or family members.  I'm tired.  And worn out.  And a little scared. *This could all totally be pregnancy-related. I'm a little hormonal these days.   I'm an emotional mess.  I cry; I complain; I panic; then, I cry some more. My poor husband has really had to extend the limits of his patience.  Not that that's a bad thing.  I think we could all use some patience-extending moments in our lives.  Don't you? *Or, it could be my own desire to control situations. Case in point:  Something goes awry at home (something breaks, needs cleaning, needs changing, you get the idea ), and I am all about getting it...