2,163 Worries and Joys

All weekend, friends and family we saw kept smiling at us, hugging me gently as if I would break. Being excited. And I felt like Miranda on that one episode of Sex and the City, where she has to feign excitement about having a boy. I smiled, but felt nervous. I didn't want anyone to be really juiced up yet. Truth be told, I've been restraining myself.

I mean, after all, what symptoms do I have? None. No nausea, no cravings, nothing. Everything normal so far. People keep asking me, "How do you feel?" in an anxious little whisper. "Like myself." It's the best I can do. I'm more tired, but I feel like me. One morning I thought I was feeling a little sick, and then realized I took my prenatal on an empty stomach. Once I ate a piece of toast, I was okay. I slept a little in the afternoon yesterday, which is atypical, but other than that, I'm just me. I also swam, which I had a feeling my RE would nix if I asked (and I did today, and I was right, he nixed it), but I did it anyway. It was freaking 90 some degrees, my parents have a pool, and I'll be damned if I wasn't getting in it.

This morning, I woke up and was tired one hour after I woke up. That's a sign, right? But maybe it's just a sign that I'm lazy, not pregnant. We went to the RE, where of course everyone smiled at more, and I love everyone in that office, so I had to smile back, but so nervous. So so nervous.

After the blood draw, we went to the mall to drop off my stupid car at Sears. And then of course I decided we needed a soaker hose for the new landscaping we put in over the weekend. And then Partner needed more mascara, and then I decided I should get a little pressie for my friend Lynne's new baby [Mazel Tov!], and I started crying in Children's Place. I actually started to get excited. I held Partner's hand very tightly. Why do baby clothes make me cry? I want them all so badly. We paused outside every baby shop in the mall. Gymboree. Baby Gap. We stood and clasped hands. "I'll shop in Baby Gap," Partner said to me. Her eyes-- they were bold with excitement. My partner has some beautiful eyes.

Then the waiting. And at five to four, five minutes before the clinic closed, I still hadn't heard anything. I emailed off to Pamplemousse, my sister in crime, with my woes. I told her the clinic always calls early with good numbers and leaves the bad number calls until later in the day. I was convinced the numbers had plummeted. No one wanted to call and tell me. It's a little like applying to college: the thick packet means you're in. The thin letter means you're out. Take this and theorize from there: early=good, and late=bad.

Apparently this theory is flawed. I figured out earlier today that doubling and doubling again would mean I needed to be at least 1352. This number seems unreachable. I would never be able to reach it.

Again, flawed theory resting on flawed theory. Since the number is 2,163.

Son of pup. I think I might be pregnant.

Ultrasound: Next Tuesday, 12:45