Had a fabulous OBGYN ritual check-up. I love my doctor, he's laconic and serious, and grandpa-like all at the same time. Here are his responses.
My lack-of weight gain: Hmmm, we'll just have to keep an eye on that. (That's why I'm keeping an eye on a box full of chocolate donuts...yum.)
My headaches: I don't have your blood results, but they should be able to tell me if they'll go away or stick around. (It's been five weeks, how can they not have my blood results?)
The heartbeat: Sorry to tell you, sounds like a boy. (Sorry to tell me? Why on earth would he be sorry to tell me THAT?! Goof ball.)
It did, sound like a boy. He was spot-on with Kembry and Cohen. He's two-fer-two. But the best part...
After smoothing the fat down on my belly and feeling around, hearing the heartbeat and having the baby kick away the "probe": You may be further along than we thought.
Yes! YES YES YES YES YES! That's everyone woman's hope and wish at every appointment.
And the BEST BEST PART! Ultra-sound, April 12. Suuuuuuper excited.
On the flip-side, I'm ready to shove a burning hot-rod down my throat to kill all the bacteria that are causing me the worst sore throat I've ever had. It's horrible. I even had to stop talking Friday night. What a torture, poor Brett didn't know what to do with himself. Without me talking all the time, the silence was just too much for him. He nearly jumped out of the moving car. Okay, not really. He's probably thanking the Lord right now, though. Oh well.
This too shall pass.
After I shove the hot-rod down my throat.