There's nothing like having a secret to keep to squelch your creative writing. It's a good thing mine's out because I was down to absolutely nothing to write about. And when I did think of something, I was too tired and too sick to get to the computer. But I'm getting ahead of myself here.
The big news is that I'm 9 weeks pregnant. Kinda messes up my blog name...I'll have to work on that. Maybe we'll go The Peapod Four Plus One. Or The Peapod Four And More. Or maybe I'll keep thinking....
I've been keeping this secret since two days before Christmas. That's a long time - and since I couldn't write about it or anything related to it, I slowly quit writing altogether. In all truth, that might be to your benefit because all of my posts would probably be laden with complaints of nausea, bloating, tummy aches, being just so incredibly tired, and really not feeling well. So rather than read about that for 6 or 7 weeks, I spared you - there will only be 3 or 4 weeks of it.
Yesterday I went to my first appointment for this pregnancy. I hate the first ultrasound. I'll just leave it at that. But the baby is hanging like a bat inside of me and the ultrasound technician couldn't get a good picture. She tried, but I guess the baby wasn't feeling very cooperative yesterday. Anyway, instead of a clear jelly bean or peanut looking picture, we got a blob. A fuzzy kind of dust bunny blob. That's ok - nobody really cares about your first ultrasound pictures anyway - it's the 20 week one that has all the good shots.
So after the ultrasound, I went to see the nurse practitioner. There they took my entire medical history. Again. As if I haven't already given it to them at least three times before. You'd think it was in my file by now. And then, since I'd been a negligent patient last year, I got an annual exam and physical. I had enough medical stuff last year to warrant skipping it in 08...at least to my way of thinking. Those doctor types don't like you to do that, though, and they made sure I'm up-to-date with all that.
Can I just say, that I really shouldn't have had cereal for breakfast today? The milk is doing a number on my stomach. Blah!
After the exam, I got a lengthy explanation of prenatal vitamins. Apparently folic acid and B6 aren't enough. I need to take Flintstones too. Which, really, I'm fine with as long as they don't upset my stomach even worse. But I let her think I'd march right out buy extra-strength vitamins. I won't. After all that, she sent me to the lab for blood work. I was beginning to wonder if I was ever going to get to go home. Eventually, they did let me go. After I agreed to come back in four weeks and again in eight.
As a consolation prize or congratulations gift, whichever, the nurse did bring me a new tote bag filled with "goodies". It had a book about being pregnant...the same book they gave me with Daniel, which I'm pretty sure I sent to Goodwill. A magazine. A bunch of vitamin samples. Advertisements to buy insurance and store cord blood. An umbrella. And a water bottle. And maybe a few other things.
By the time we got to the car I was tearing through my purse for the pretzel and crackers I'd packed. Stabilize the stomach. Stabilize the stomach. Wash it down with water. Hope for the best.
And so really, for the next few weeks that's the goal. Stabilize the stomach and wash it down with water.
And maybe don't drink milk. Ugh.