Belly Watch 2008
Tuesday, May 6, 2008 - 08:57 a.m.
We'd planned to do the week-by-week belly photo thing, but we're almost halfway through this deal and we've taken...uhm...two. Not that it really matters, because up until about two weeks ago, the photos would all have looked the same anyway. But now there's visible progress, so last night we finally took the second one. I initially had some serious qualms about posting photos of mai belly on teh intarwebs, but eh, what the hell.
At least it's in black and white, so you're spared full knowledge of just how terribly, terribly white I really am. Also, I chose those pants because I thought they might be able to make it through all 40 weeks, due to the elastic waistband. After last night, I'm entertaining some serious doubts. I might still be able to squeeze into the pants come September, but it's also entirely possible that the waistband could explode.
For the good of mankind, I am currently hiding in my office. I want to go throw away the remains of my lunch, but I can hear people talking outside the door. It's those coworkers - you know, the ones who, once they start talking, find it impossible to STFU. They're lurking just outside, and I know that if I leave the safety of this office, they will attempt to engage me in a pointless, mind-numbingly boring conversation on a topic about which I could not possibly care less, and today, I just can't take it. I am not in the mood for talking. In fact, I am in a foul mood, and my current attitude can best be described as poisonous. I'm honest enough to admit that it's just me being pissy, but that doesn't keep me from seriously wanting to boot someone in the face if they so much as blink once too often. So, as I said, I've locked myself in my office for the good of mankind, and I'm self-medicating. With SKITTLES.
(Hey, at least I know I'm batshit crazy, and I'm actively trying not to take it out on the innocent. If I were more like some other women I know, I would just be an unholy bitch and make everyone around me miserable, then blame it on hormones or something stupid like that. But that's a seriously cow thing to do, and I know it. Honestly, I think I deserve some sort of shiny medal for such admirable insight and restraint. Or a Hershey's dark chocolate bar cautiously prodded in my direction with a 10-foot pole. Whatever.)
On the upside, today I discovered this and this, both of which perform a valuable public service. Then I found this, and suddenly the sun seemed to shine a little brighter.
Today we had another OB appointment, just the routine once-a-month sort. As usual, everything looked great. Healthy baby, healthy me, everyone on track for, as my doctor puts it, an October 5th birthday party.
But even though this pregnancy has been routine, healthy, and about the lowest risk anyone could ask for, I have to admit I work myself into a frenzy of worry before every single appointment. Last time it took the nurse an eternity to find the heartbeat, and after the first few minutes, I'm pretty sure my heart stopped beating entirely. I thought I'd never be more relieved than when we saw that first ultrasound, but that day, when we finally heard the heartbeat, I reached a whole new plane. And today, when she found the heartbeat INSTANTLY, I was even more relieved than before. Against all logic, as things progress, the fear that somehow something is going to go wrong intensifies exponentially.
(My doctor assures me THIS NEVER STOPS. In fact, he says, it pretty much gets worse after birth.)
So, I've been out of town for training, and now that I'm back in Huntsville, I decided to sit down and go through some of the websites I read. They're all strangers, I don't know these people, but I follow their stories because some of them write well, some are just funny, and others I can identify with. And yesterday, one of the women posted about the 10-week miscarriage she found out about on Wednesday. She went in for a minor complaint and walked out with the knowledge that her baby died two weeks ago, only a few days after their perfectly normal ultrasound. She's living my worst fear, and my heart broke on her behalf, even while another part of me wanted to close the window and pretend I never read it.
I have only the faintest idea, the tiniest hint of what it would feel like to go in with all my worries, and leave with all of them confirmed. It makes me want to stop time, right now, when I know everything is going so well, so we never have to face that possibility. Every time we go in and I walk out of that office after hearing a strong, healthy heartbeat, I am entirely, achingly aware of just how blessed Todd and I really are. Even though I joke, and laugh, and make light of things, I take nothing about this for granted.
Belly Watch 2008
