12 weeks, 4 days

Just got home from the dentist (which I love oh so much even on good days) where I discovered that the books weren’t kidding when they said your gums might bleed more than normal while preggers.

When your hygienist says “woah!” that’s not a good sign.

12 weeks, 2 days

Yesterday we made cookies and I realized, to my horror, that I’m not allowed to eat raw cookie dough because of the eggs.

CURSES.

Over the weekend, I bought my first honest-to-goodness maternity clothes at a consignment sale. Today, I am wearing the first of those items, a tank top.

Ok, doesn’t really qualify, but it’s still a milestone, right?

We have our 12 week checkup on Friday and I’m nervous. I really want to see that heartbeat again.

11 weeks, 2 days

I’m wearing a rubber band on the button of my jeans to give me an extra inch (and an extra pair of jeans I can now wear. HUZZAH!).

Talked to my sister this weekend about the conundrum of the first few months of just looking fat instead of pregnant.

Also, husband cleaned the ENTIRE house on Saturday while I was at work. He wins all the prizes.

10 weeks, 3 days

Threw up this morning for the first time—at least, the first time that’s morning sickness-related.

I’m glad I could share this milestone with you.

10 weeks, 2 days

I have never been so happy to feel so crappy.

Bran is my friend.

Have had pretty bad morning sickness most of the day. And I’m taking that as a good sign that a) maybe the bean doesn’t like sour cream and cheddar potato chips (which we had for dinner last night) and b) that the bean still has a say in things.

Which is fine by me. He or she is welcome to hate all variety of potato chips.

~*~

In other news, I have one official prediction from a family member that the bean will be a girl. She also happens to have been a prenatal nurse for her entire career and was looking at my 8 week sonogram. For what it’s worth.

10 weeks, 1 day

I have spent the last four days in abject fear of going to the bathroom.

I have seen blood twice, thin and red and fresh, and much more than there should be.

I have been to the OBGYN office and been consoled by nurses as they injected me with Rogam.

I have been consoled and terrified in turns by my family, the internet, my friends.

Everyone has a story. Everyone has a theory. Except me.

I have only the power to wait.

I have been put on “pelvic rest:” no pushing, pulling, or lifting. No laundry, no vacuuming, no yoga. Feet elevated. Rest.

How do you rest when you’re so afraid?

I suppose this is when I realize how real it is, when I am afraid for the life a few weeks ago I wasn’t sure was really there.

I am terrified. I am trying to stay positive. I am not always succeeding.