so i’m approaching week 9, or something like that. i know when you’re supposed to start counting, but it defies logic, especially because you start counting before conception. and i’m really not counting, because it still seems unreal, and i haven’t been to the doctor yet. i had a miscarriage in 2000. Thanksgiving weekend in the year 2000, to be exact. at the time i’d all ready had my first appointment, but i think the miscarriage occurred a week or so later, in my 10th week. when i was pregnant with the Punkin, i remember my first appointment was around week 11 and i commented that i had never made it that far before. so as i wait for my first appointment, i think about the days and weeks and wonder if i’ll make it to that first appointment. and then i know at that first appointment i’ll be scheduling an amnio and ultrasound, and then it will be real. real scarey, because there is more waiting for test results.
i let myself go the past couple months. maybe i can blame the Clomid? sounds like a good excuse. but the fact of the matter is most of my pants don’t fit. all ready. i saved nearly all my maternity clothes, so i’ve got a dated wardrobe in boxes, but i’m afraid to break into them just yet. once i do, my more astute coworkers will know my secret, and i’ll have to wear the same clothes for the next 7 months. most of the shirts and sweaters are pretty universal, but shirts are not the problem. the pants are not universal. i’ve got a couple potato sack-shaped jumpers to get me through a couple days a week, but i’m having a hard time finding the motivation to shave my legs and the weather is turning cooler. i guess i can resort to tights.
these are not the whinings of a self-proclaimed low-maintenance woman.
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