Stuffed like a sausage

It’s been a happy pregnancy day. We started off with a mini argument (I was eating cheesecake for breakfast and the love of my life called me “piggie” in a supposedly “loving” way while I think in actuality it was in a very MEAN way), got over it, and were on our way to the clinic.

We went through all of my (negative!) test results, and I smiled and thought, “Whew, dodged a bullet…” In my young and irresponsible days, getting test results for those types of icky things was fairly nerve-racking, but now that I’m old and responsible and in love with only one person, they’re a breeze. Anyway, since I don’t have HIV or syphilis or anything, we proceeded to my plethora of questions. At the first appointment I had about twenty bullet-point questions, and this time it was only about four. Blood pressure was fine, and then we listened to the heartbeat.

We listened to the heartbeat.

My baby has a heartbeat!

Up until now, I’ve always had something to worry about. I’m young and healthy, but… I just didn’t want to love too much and too soon. All of my books mentioned something called “missed miscarriage” where the miscarriage goes undetected for weeks. Not only did this lead me to taking about a pregnancy test a week for the past eight weeks (okay, maybe I exaggerate), but also thinking and worrying and thinking and worrying. ANYWAY! After the cute little 160bpm “thumpthumpthumpthump!” the doctor assured me that the combination of being into the second trimester as well as having auditory confirmation of his little heart was a good reason to stop worrying.

And now, I will buy maternity clothes!