It’s a pinto bean!

My first OB appointment was 2 days ago. I was very nervous for the whole thing. I’m not really sure why. My sweet husband took off early from work to go with me so he could see the first ultrasound.

The first part of the appointment was talking with a nurse. She asked all sorts of questions about my family history (are your parents/grandparents living, history of heart disease/cancer, anyone locked in your parent’s basement) and my history (have you ever done crack cocaine, were you ever a prostitute, do you have asthma). Pretty typical stuff. They didn’t ask much about my husband’s family which I thought was a little odd. I mean, what if there is someone locked in HIS parent’s basement? Does crazy only run through the mom’s side?

The second part of the appointment was the ultrasound part. Now, if you are unfamiliar with pregnancy then you might not know that those nice ultrasounds you see on TV don’t come into play until a little later in the pregnancy. At this stage, the only way to see the baby is an intravaginal ultrasound. Yes, that is exactly what you think it is. It’s an internal ultrasound. Now, I will say this for sex-ed. They apparently don’t want to prevent young people from having sex all that badly. Because if they did, they would make sure to inform these children that pregnancy is a very popular end result of sex. And pregnancy is not all pretty bellies and happy babies. No, dear children, pregnancy is a camera inserted where no camera should be inserted. Pregnancy is 24-hour-constant nausea. Pregnancy is constipation, peeing on yourself in the third trimester, and pooping on the table when you are pushing for delivery. Oh yeah, and it’s a catheter if you choose an epidural. And tearing. In an area that should never tear.

But I digress. So anyway. After my husband got over the shock of exactly how the pictures of our baby would be taken, we got to see our little pinto bean. That’s really all it looked like. A little bean with a little beating heart. The doctor said it was too early to hear it but showed us the little fluttering spot on the bean that is our baby’s heart. He measured the bean and put my due date at 4/22/12. This is 10 days later than I originally estimated. Which, I can honestly say, upset me quite a bit. 10 days isn’t a whole lot of time when you are 26 weeks, but when you are only in your 7th week, 10 days is a long time. Specifically, a week and 3 days. Just in case you weren’t sure. So now, when I thought I would be 8 weeks tomorrow, I won’t actually even be 7 weeks until Sunday.

The good news is that both of our families know now so I can actually call my mom without feeling like I’m going to blurt out something about pregnancy/babies/etc. It was super hard to call her on her birthday and not tell her. I know my husband has had the same difficulty when talking to his parents.

So as I’m getting ready to finish up my 7th week (being 7 weeks means I will have completed my 7th week) I have a new prescription for blood pressure (as the Dr. was concerned that my slightly elevated blood pressure would become a problem) and for nausea (while it doesn’t remove it completely it makes me feel less like dying), and I’m still so tired I could sleep all day long and probably still be tired. I actually thought food tasted good today so that’s a plus as well. My child still has zero interest in anything sweet. I can barely stand yogurt. A plate of cookies on TV actually made my stomach lurch. Now if it would only start craving vegetables. One can dream.

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