Right now I’m eating those yummy sugar cookes you get in the clear plastic containers at Kroger. The ones with the pink frosting and sprinkles. And I don’t feel guilty about it. Just so you know.
Sometimes I think I might be narcoleptic. And arthritic. But then I remember, no, I’m just pregnant. I felt like I could have taken a lovely nap in my spinach dip today at Ruby Tuesdays and my hips are so stiff I’m hobbling around like a 90 year old. The trouble is that at this point I am only showing if I wear snugger (is that a word?) fitting shirts, and even then, I just look like I’ve had too many of the above mentioned sugar cookies. It isn’t cute yet. So to anyone watching my drooping eyelids and limping gait I just look like a chubby lady who needs to eat better and touch up her roots. Lovely.
My 12-week doctor appointment last Tuesday was great for the most part. The doctor used the Doppler to pick up the heartbeat and it was amazing. It was 160, strong and healthy sounding. It sounded like a fluttering, or something akin to horses galloping maybe. It’s hard to describe. The only quirk in the visit was that my thyroid levels came back a tad bit squirrelly, barely out of the normal range, so I had to go back to the blood lab for another blood draw so they could rerun the tests. If you know me very well at all, you know that one of my many phobias is getting my blood taken. It’s all about a fear of needles in general. But so far I’ve had my blood taken twice and both times have gotten lucky enough to have had an excellent phlebotomist. I do make sure to warn them that I am a
terrified horrible patient when it comes to getting my blood taken and command them DO NOT stick me unless you are 100% positive that you have a vein. Otherwise I will bolt out of this chair faster than lightning, hobbling on both sore hips, taking that squishy ball you make me squeeze with me and you will never see me, or it, again. Either that or I will pass out and you will have to deal with a fat lady sprawled out on your pristine and shiny floor. So far this has been a successful strategy. I need to call next week to see how the thyroid redo test went but the doctor didn’t seem all that concerned about it, just that it was either a fluke thing or I’d be on my way to see an endocrinologist. Don’t you love how I’m throwing around all these medical terms? That last part wasn’t too comforting but what can ya do? I’m at their mercy.
Overall, it was a good day and put my mind at ease that Bean is still in there and hadn’t got bored swimming around and decided to jump ship. I go back for my 16-week visit in mid-February.