Good gravy, let me just apologize for being so damn shitty with the blog as of late. I have really great reasons for it, but you don't care- you just want the details of what is going on.
So first of all, this has happened:
I know, I've kept secrets. I'm so bad.
But you know I called my OB immediately and they told me they wouldn't even see me until week eight, and gah- that was literally the longest four weeks of my life. The worst part is that they did have me come in to do a blood test, so I quick went up on a Friday, thought nothing of it. Come Monday, I get a call and they ask how sure am I on my date of last period? Which, I'm ridiculously sure because I am a secretary at heart and I write every thing down, I document every thing for accuracy. Believe me, not only am I sure, but I can tell you how long my periods have lasted for the last six months and how heavy they were on a scale of 1 to 10.
So then she says, "Well. Either you are further than you think or you might have multiples. We'll know for sure in three weeks for an ultrasound."
Pro tip: Do not drop that kind of bomb on someone and then make them wait three weeks.
Needless to say, the wait was far more brutal than it should have been. But finally, it was doctor appointment day, so Matt went with me after dropping the kids off at school. Which I'm just going to say, was terrifying. I didn't anticipate having so much anxiety being in that office again, but I did and it was awful. I was shaking, I felt like peeing my pants, I also wanted to run for the hills, it was just really awful.
So once I go in, I did the whole pee in the cup thing and they had me go into a room. We do a ridiculous questionnaire of every thing pregnancy related and not, we go over every thing I have ever had as far as health concerns, and this nurse practitioner was so incredibly thorough and kind. I can't tell you how kind she was. She could tell I was terrified for the ultrasound and she was just really great. So we do the exam, all looks/feels well. We do the ultrasound and I won't lie, I didn't look. At least not right away. It was a good 15-20 seconds of silence, I'm staring at the ceiling, I couldn't even look at Matt and finally she says, "See? Right there- that's the heartbeat. It's going to be OK." and so I looked.
And admittedly, I teared up. First thought right away was that it was a girl. Who knows what it is, and I could be totally wrong. But what a damn relief.
So here we are. I'm officially nine weeks as of this past Wednesday. My official due date is May 6, 2015. Let the countdown begin.