Here’s my final costume. It hung from my neck, and I had a yellow feather boa to go with it. The boa is like kitty heroin, though, so I couldn’t include it in the shot.

Chick-U-Bator is a trademarked name. Authenticity is everything.

On the two side eggs, the flap lifted to show a chick (here I only got the butt, oh well) and the center egg included a copy of the ultrasound image, that I had enlarged at Staples.

It took people a while to get it, finally a mother looked at all the flaps and was like . . ." wait, is that YOUR baby? Inside YOU?"  As people figured it out, I got congratulated and hugged. Which is a challenge when you’re wearing a large sheet of foamboard.

(NTS scan was fine, according to the perinatologist that did it.  My blood is off for the other 3 parts, but we’re feeling good. The fetus was JUMPING AROUND. Like my uterus was a TRAMPOLINE.  heartrate is 154, measuring 6.55 cm, and measuring 13w, but I’m 12w3d. Does that mean I’m in for a big baby? With my genetics, um, probably.)

Basically, I can best describe being pregnant so far as like being really, really stoned. Overstoned.  You’re tired, and you’re hungry, and you have specific food things you want and don’t want, and you get stupid and ask stupid things like "is your cell phone fixed?" after calling someone on their cell phone. Perhaps that is revealing a little of my sordid past (my GOD, though, I came of age in the early nineties, who DIDN’T spend much of that time high?) but there you have it. Stoned, but okay enough to drive to satisfy that midnight Cheeto craving.

Not that I have. I mean, I’ve craved Cheetos BAD, yesterday I forced myself to NOT buy them because right up there with corndogs and stool softener, Cheetos are one hell of an embarrassing purchase for me. I really tried to resist, and I did, until I got to my office and realized I really needed to just succumb, that the best thing for me to get through the day would be more sodium than anyone recommends, so I found 75 cents and went to the snack machine . . . . and my cheetos? WERE EXPIRED.  I could’ve cried.  I got Combos, but let me tell you, COMBOS do not satisfy a Cheeto craving. Ooh, maybe I’ll take them to the party tomorrow, so that I can satiate my craving but not Eat the Whole Goddamn Bag.

I’m stocking up on supplies, too, at a great discount (so far).  I got a KKAFP a month or so ago, not sure if it would fit my boobs, but figuring if it didn’t, it was neutral enough for Dave to wear, a coffee colored fleece.  Sure enough, it fit him way better than me, and he gave the cat a test ride in it.  I found another in a larger size on the FSOT boards at thebabywearer.com , in a great avocado color, and snapped that up yesterday.  I told Dave about it, and he asked "well, what about the brown one?" and I said "oh, that’s yours."  He was SO EXCITED that he had his own.

You know, I think it’s one of those things that maybe not having peers or a dad to set up expectations for you might be a good thing.  Dave is a gentle, loving, fabulous guy, and he thinks the sling is the coolest. thing. ever.  I think popping all 20 pounds of FatKitty in there helped him get the concept right away, even she was pretty cool about it, so it’s good to not have to defend the idea to my own husband, you know?

I also scored a crib today.  Marden’s got a boatload of baby stuff (I think from a Baby Depot that had a Katrina-related insurance loss) and most of it ended up in my mom’s store.  After spending the weekend looking at stuff and talking about what I like and don’t like, and talking about the reviews and stuff, she called today from the store having spied this crib, which retails for 3-400, on sale for 130.  I imagine we’ll cosleep for a while, but I’d like to be prepared in case that doesn’t work out, and for 130, well, that’s a steal. Even if I never use it, I could sell it at that price and someone else would be getting a deal, too. 

So, so far we have a crib, 2 slings, and some receiving blankets and lovey blankets from friends, and a Misfits onesie.  We’re on our way.

I had a dental appointment today, I’d forgotten about it so I didn’t go to work and will instead work three longer days this week.  It was fine, no cavities, and they nixed the scheduled x-rays once they learned I was pregnant.  On my way out, I had to stop and pay and schedule my next appointments, and that is where I had my first public freakout reality check.

Because of my periodontal issues, I go 3x a year instead of 2x, and they remind me of my next appointment, and schedule me for the following one after each visit.  She filled out the card for my February appointment, and pulled p the calendar to make the next one.

"So, early June? Would that be good?"  The receptionist hadn’t seen my records or talked to me, so I said "umm, actually probably not, I’m going to be having a baby in May, and I think July might be better…."

My hygienist was standing there (and knew about the pregnancy, obviously) and when the receptionist asked "what time?" the hygienist stepped in for me as I tried to think, and said "oh, she won’t know her napping schedule til she has that baby" and they laughed, and the receptionist said "how’s noon?"

I nodded, and then it hit me. "Oh my god, I’ll need a sitter for that appointment… oh that’s so weird… but it’s Dave’s lunch hour… oh this is too weird, I’ve never had to consider anyone else’s schedule…"  I was really freaked out.

I mean, I’ll be leaving my baby in July for a half hour or so to have my teeth cleaned.  I need to consider Dave’s schedule for stuff like this now, and that is SO WEIRD.

After my appointment, I went and got on another list for infant childcare, and fuck, it stresses me out, not knowing what’s going to happen.  I’m so . . . unemployed as soon as I deliver, you know? I know people figure it out, but still, ACK. It scares me if I think about it too much, so I don’t. There. Ugh.

It’s weird, how different this was.  Last time, god, it was awful.  The whole day leading up to the exam was an extended panic attack, I couldn’t eat, I couldn’t relax for the pelvic exam, I couldn’t breathe.

Today? Totally different ball o’ wax.  I got the doppler (thanks, bizarrogirl for the info, btw) and did a few passes over the region yesterday morning and this morning, and got nothing.  The night that I got it, I thought I found something, but it turned out to be my own blood rushing through the ateries.  Despite not finding a heartbeat, I didn’t panic. 

It’s weird, I’ve had lots of pregnancy dreams, but less than a handful of BABY dreams. One was before I even ovulated, which is why I started OPking early and managed to catch the egg a full week before I expected it, and one was about a monkey, and that was it.  I’ve had some trippy dreams, but I often do, but anything fertility related has been about pregnancy. .. . basic premise is that I’m somewhere and I’m incredulously pregnant, and not sure if I should mention it yet.  In some dreams, I do, haltingly, and in others I think "no, wait. Just wait."  I really think that my psyche was waiting for me to get to today, to get to the "no, really, I’m PREGNANT" stage before it could conjure up any freaky baby dreams.

I got up this morning, and it was just. . . a day.  I went to school, led the classes, ducked out early to come home and get something to eat (I ATE because I was HUNGRY, not because I was trying to not freak out, like last time) and Dave and I headed over.  The doc was running late from surgery, but that was okay, and we sat in the waiting room trying not to pass out on account of the lullaby CD playing overhead.  Dave read some car magazines, I read anything I could find that wasn’t baby-related, or Sports Illustrated, and we cracked jokes. Seriously, we were laughing.  We went to the exam room and laughed some more (the nurse left me a gown, and we joked that we should put Dave in it and put him on the table), and this time, when I had to have the pelvic, I was able to relax like normal. 

And then, when she put in the ultrasound wand, I was torn about looking at the screen, but I did in the end…. and it was instant. A head, legs, flickering heartbeat, the belly, the arms, the brain…. Dave was more confused than I was, but as you can well imagine, I’ve spent more than the usual amount of time googling ultrasound images from 10-11 weeks.   It was just … it was okay, like I knew it would be.

The appointment took much longer, as it does when you aren’t left in a puddle of tears to get dressed and exit quietly.  We made appointments for my next visit (I get a next! visit!) and for the nuchal fold ultrasound.  We found out what we need to pay (about 500 bucks, in 5 installments) and we went home.  The doc gave us two copies of the face and waving arm shot, so dave clipped one off and took it to work.  And being the freak that he is, he walked into the office with it held out in front of him and waited for his officemates to figure out what was going on, and they were all very congratulatory.

He’ll tell his mom this weekend I guess, while I’m in Portland, having given myself permission to consider myself Officially Pregnant, and therefore allowed to really look at Cute Baby Shit.  Anyway. Whoa. Preeeeggggnnnnaaaannt.

Wow.

If you could see the fingers, I bet you a dollar they’re throwing up the "rock on" fingers.

Everything is FINE. F-I-N-E FINE. There are limbs! And brain hemispheres! And pictures coming soon!

HOLY SHIT! I’m PREGNANT!

Going in for the ultrasound at 2pm EST, if anyone wants to send a good vibe in my direction.  I’m not feeling as stressed as I did before, or even as much as I felt last time at 6weeks, so is that good? Whatever, I have a plan of action for either outcome, but I’d really like to not have to resort to Plan B, so, um, yeah. We’ll see.