...Just typing the title of this entry makes me exhausted. I have done little in the past two weeks besides read pregnancy and baby books, and I've come to one conclusion: Pregnancy and childbirth are SCARY. The things that are going to happen to me and my body are SCARY. The idea of the epidural not taking or the baby coming so fast that I don't have time for one is SCARY.
Whenever I'm somewhere crowded I think to myself "Everyone here is here because some mama somewhere was pregnant and gave birth to them. If every woman in the world can do this, so can I, right?" Right?
It's so like me to want something so desperately for so long, and then when I get it, I immediately catastrophize about the millions of ways it could go wrong. I'm doing that now, but just a little. I don't have a strong sense of "being pregnant." I feel a little woozy in the mornings, and I'm a little tired and a lot hungry, but none of this is particularly unusual.
On April 25th, we're going to Dr. Bopp's office for an ultrasound. I'll only be 7 weeks then, but since it took us so long to get pregnant, they are taking lots of precautions. I've had a few blood draws thus far to measure hormone levels and all is well.
A shout-out to Tom Ristine, who told me he "forgives" me for leaving him out of the list of people I was thankful for in my last post. You know I have nothing but love for you, Plaid Daddy.
We're heading to STL for the weekend this afternoon to celebrate my sweet husband's 30th birthday. Mama Lou, my grandmother, is going to be in the 500 festival parade because she was elected prom queen of her retirement home. My house is reasonably clean. I'm getting used to no alcohol and only a little caffeine. Tim is handsome as ever, and I have boobs for the first time in my entire life. All is well in my world.
xoxoxo
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment