Not exactly glowing

1 Nov

Six weeks and three days! Can’t believe it! The last week feels like it’s dragged on for eternity though we had some excellent news on Saturday – I am actually baking a pork chop and not living out some deranged phantom pregnancy.

So far the little guy or girl is 5mm from rump to rear with a solid heartbeat of 14obpm. There is some bleeding around the sac (gross), but apparently it’s not all bad news – just one of those freaky things that happens. And while I’m not exactly ‘glowing’, there’s definitely something going on beyond the coldsores, rash and stuffy nose. By the amount that I’m sleeping there’s a lot going on and now that we’ve at least seen a heartbeat The Boy is inclined to believe me and has even offered a massage. Let the pampering begin.

Thankfully, the morning sickness is yet to kick in. Beyond feeling a bit queasy and vomity when I’m overtired (nothing new there), I’m doing pretty well. I do have the stereotypical sore boobs and amazing ability to pee every five minutes which, of course, is raising a few eyebrows here at work (the peeing, not the boobs). And of course I’m still paranoid that something horrible is going to happen but for now, The Boy and I, are parents. To something that’s going to require a little bit more effort than the Fur Baby.

So far we’ve told family and a couple of friends, mostly because I was going mad and needed to talk to someone I knew who had been through this whole ‘nine-months-of-anxiety-and-hell’ thing, and because I was driving The Boy mad and he needed someone to tell him that all girls got crazy when pregnant.

My mum has been totally awesome and has made sure she’s on the record as getting first selection of the grandparent naming rights, while my brothers have been alternating between totally grossed out that their baby sister would go and do such a thing and fussing over which school I’m going to enroll the little dumpling in. And I, obviously, don’t want to disappoint anyone, so am spending my work days sitting with my legs crossed every time I sneeze so that nothing falls out.

While I’m certainly not feeling the best I have to say now that I’ve seen the scan I’m a hundred times more relaxed. I’m even beginning to have a bit of fun. And hey, now I’m married and pregnant I can totally let myself go. Let the year of the fat pants begin.

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