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Past Pregnancy Posts Part 2: My First Doctor’s Appointment

Oh, and as per a few of your comments. No I was not really drinking when I posted about it in December/Jan. I am verry verry sneaky.

December 2, 2010

My first Doctor’s appointment! Eeeeek!!! By my calculations I am almost ** weeks along. (Sorry guys, I want to keep some things-like my due date- private for now) Which is confusing since they say you should calculate your pregnancy from the first day of your last period because it is supposedly hard to pin point the conception date. Nuh uh. Not for me. I know exactly the day we conceived, but have zero clue as to when my last period was. What kind of sicko keeps track of that nonsense?

I like the office immediately. Mostly because the nurse seems super entertained by my profound spazz-tacity. I like when people like me. Plus she takes two pounds off of my weight because of the snow boots I am wearing. I think she should have taken off 6, but still, I appreciate the gesture.

The doctor comes in and is suspiciously cute for a ladyparts doctor, but I also like pretty people so I’m cool with it. She tells me I am for sure pregnant and I tell her I for sure have a kagillion questions for her. She suggests we go over some commonly asked questions in their pregnancy packet since that usually answers most issues people come in worrying about. I decide to humor her, but smile to myself thinking about how she has no idea what she’s in for.

The pregnancy packet is surprisingly informative- but is no match for my inquisitive intellect. I start off with a truly brilliant question:

“Is it ok for me to put my laptop on my tummy in bed or will that cook the baby.”

She doesn’t even look at me like I have a star-shaped head. She laughs! I knew I liked this Doctor Lady. And yes, that is ok.

“Do most people really poop in labor.”

More laughter, and then horror.

The answer is YES!!!!!!! Are you effing kidding me?? I thought that was a wives tale. A horrible story told to combat global crowding.

I don’t really listen to her answers to the rest of my questions, my mind is too blown. Then it is time for the exam. I don’t really superhate gyn exams like most people do. I get why doctors go into gyn/obstetrics and know the scary junk they must have seen during their residency to get here, so I kind of figure whatever I am working with is probably a treat in comparison. Except she looks me in the eye the whole time which I find kind of unsettling.

But not as unsettling as the news that I will have to bleed for them AND get a flu shot. I do not do needles. Like I am not proud of this, but in highschool I would wail and scream at the pediatricians office- well past the age I should even be receiving medical attention in a room with cartoon giraffe wallpaper-and eventually have to be restrained by my mortified mother and a nurse to get my back-to-school vaccines. I have tentatively elected to go with a natural birthplan not in some noble quest to protect the baby- but because I know there is no way in hell that epidural is happening. Everyone tells me that once I am in labor that will all change. But people have also been telling me since I was twelve that I would grow out of my needlephobia- as well as my love for Britney Spears- but neither has happened yet. So we shall see.

I handle the flu shot like a boss. Only one graceful tear rolls down my cheek. Going in to the lab for blood work I am a MESS. Pete tries to shame me between my texts telling him how much I hate him for getting me into this mess by reminding me this is all for the baby, and that works until the nurse puts the tourniquet on and I lose it. I give what I am pretty sure is about a gallon of blood and head out to the waiting room, hair looking kind of like I stood outside in a hurricane, knees still wobbling.

We schedule my next appointment- it’s a big one! The sonogram where we will hopefully hear the heartbeat for the first time. Right now my risk of miscarriage is about 30%, but once they can see that it is a viable uterine pregnancy with a heartbeat my risk goes down to 2%. I kind of want to take a nap and wake up to the sound of our baby’s heartbeat. Must keep occupied until then.

Past Pregnancy Posts: Part 1, OMG We’re Pregnant

You have zero clue how hard it is for a big mouth like myself to keep such a ginormous secret for so long. It was the worst. And so I would write imaginary posts to all of you and save them, dreaming of the day when we could share and care as God and the internet intended.

So today, I have for you, the first of several Past Pregnancy Posts.

Part 1: The day we find out we are pregnant

November 26, 2010

It’s the day after Thanksgiving and Pete and I have pretty much sterilized the house from last nights festivities. I didn’t really drink very much, but I just feel weird. Not to mention the boob explosion that plagued me a few weeks ago at Pete’s brothers wedding seems to be back.

I ask you, how do bizooms go from this:To this:In 6 weeks? Only two ways, my dears. Surgery or pregnancy. As you all know, in my case it was the latter.

I decide to make an impromtu CVS run, ostensibly to buy a few pregnancy tests- but really because I would very much enjoy a kit kat. When I get back to the house Pete is still up in the family room studying and I don’t even think to call him down.

I go to the bathroom to take the test. Nonchalantly, I leave it on the counter and go explore more pressing matters- like my kit kat. I come back to check on the test a few minutes later and just scream, “PEEEEEEEEETTTEEEEEEEEE, YOU NEED TO GET DOWN HERE!!!”.

Normally when I yell for Pete he yells back something charming like, “WHAT!?” this time, he just comes running. I am standing in the bathroom and hand him the test, “We’re pregnant”.

I start crying happy tears- I have always been what now seems to be very irrationally afraid that I wouldn’t be able to have kids- and I seriously cannot believe that as early as it is, I am pregnant.

Pete, who does not understand “happy tears”-at all-starts getting nervous and goes, “What, this is ok right? This is good, right!?!?!”

I take a few more tests, all positive. Pete takes one to be sure.

Negative.

Pete is not pregnant.

I don’t know where to begin! I don’t even have a doctor in Chicago! We decide we should go to the suburbs and tell his parents. I will need his mom to get me a doctor’s appointment, plus Pete’s brother and his wife are in town and will be key in diffusing the awkwardness that will for sure go along with telling Pete’s parents.

The whole way out to the suburbs Pete and I are grinning like goobers and just keep saying, “this is so weird…”

To describe Pete’s parents as shocked would be a gigantic understatement. They seem to experience a temporary paralysis/go mute for a bit. To be fair, Pete and I did only get married two months before. And their only other child, Pete’s older brother, had been married just three weeks earlier- so it has been a big year for the McCarthy’s and I am not quite sure they have any sparkle left on reserve for this unexpected good news.

Eventually the shock wears off and merriment is had. Champagne is poured and joyfully consumed. Not by me, though. I am just now realizing that this means 9 months of not drinking and am sort of starting to panic.

Oh my God, we are having a baby.

December 1, 2010

Not drinking is weird. I don’t really feel pregnant, and we didn’t plan this so it doesn’t really feel true yet. I am over wine, and thought I was over alcohol in general. Then the idea of a margarita occurred to me and I started to cry. I can’t even remember my last exact margarita. I hope it was good. Ohh margarita, I hardly knew ye. Had I known our time together would be so short I would have really savored you.

The other tragedy that comes with the joy of pregnancy is the suspension of my long held love affair with soft cheese. I can’t even believe this is real. I am pregnant, and I am going to get fat. I have wrapped my head around that, and although calculating in my head what my weight will be if I gain the recommended 20-30 pounds makes me sort of want to chew on some celery- I simply cannot fathom how I am going to achieve such a lofty goal without my old friend soft cheese. Not cool.

Now that I have appropriately mourned the loss of two of my most cherished food stuffs- I plan to treat eating like a game. A contest to see how I can grow the cutest, healthiest, happiest baby ever. I looked up all of the SuperFoods I am supposed to eat and came up with a detailed plan for how every morsel I shove down my soon-to-be expanding tumtumtiggly is going to fuel our SuperBaby.

Also, since it is still too early to tell our friends and family, I find myself telling every check out clerk I meet. And starting random conversations with pregnant women at the grocery store. Pregnancy-so far- is not really bringing out my best qualities.

I’m feeling smug.

Because you guys made our big exciting news even more amazing with your sweet comments!

(Thanks Louise for the video!!)

For reals, I love you all like you were all little babies in my tummy.

I promise we will still talk about design and the other usual junk I post about on here, but I am really happy to be out of the closet now and to be able to share with y’all all the craziness of the past few months as well as the months to come. I have been writing retroactive preggo posts all along so y’all can catch up on all the drama and silliness and miracle moments. Those will start Monday, if you please.

Until then, big wet kisses to you all.

This is the best post I have ever done…

…about the best thing I have ever done.

Well, it is disingenuous to say “I”.

Really I should say “we”.

Because, you see…

Pete and I made ourselves a little bitty baby.

Right now it lives in my tummy, but sometime this summer it will come live with us in our home, and we are terribly excited about that.

We were more than a little surprised. We had kind of planned on just being married for a year or two before inviting a baby to come live with us. But little baby had other plans and was like, I think now would be better, and so we were like you know what?

That sounds like a great idea!

And now I am all, ugh! Baby!! 9 Months is SO LONG to wait. I wish you would come live with us NOW! Except not really.

I want you to take all the time you need to cook up in there and become super healthy and chubby and adorable before you come meet us and then I will kiss you and kiss you and kiss you with 9 months of kisses.

We got to tell my family when we were in Texas over Christmas, and they were pretty surprised too.

Wanna see?

If the video is fuzzy for you click to watch it on youtube…a lot less fuzz.

So are you as excited for Baby McCarthy as we are?

You probably should be.

Because our baby is going to be a B.O.S.S.

BOSS.

Strawberry Fields Forever

I am having a major love affair with this fabric/wallpaper.

Have been for awhile, in fact.

As I’ve pointed out with great admiration on here before, Nick Olsen wallpapered his old fridge in it.

And if that’s not cool, then Britney doesn’t rock my world.

And we all know that’s not true.

It comes in lots of colors, and it makes me happy like Spring. (Not actually in such a poopy pink shade. Actually magic pink)

Spring. Which allegedly will one day come again.

But I’m not buyin’ it.

Stuck in never ending winter groundhog day for.ev.er.