I am now 12 weeks with this baby, and though statistic don't do much to ease my mind since I seem to defy many, I try to remind myself that in MOST cases, pregnancies progress very well after this point.
On Friday, August 6 we had another peek at our little one! We were back in for an ultrasound and had my favorite tech. I was so excited when she called us back because she will tell us what she sees. She doesn't interpret, but she gives us the facts.
Baby was measuring 11 weeks that day - three days ahead! I love to see that growth! The heart rate was great at 171. Baby was tumbling all over the place, and we saw lots of good dancing going on. Paul did his job well and asked for pictures. Even though we were feeling good after leaving the ultrasound, we still went upstairs to talk to the nurse just for extra peace of mind. And all is good. All is very good. I go back to my doctor next Monday at 13 weeks.
I am at my parents' for a long weekend, and a lot of family is home. I only see my aunts and uncles once a year because they live in New York and Chicago, so it's fun to see these little cousins.
But I don't feel comfortable talking about this pregnancy. My mom caught me off guard by announcing with my aunt's family, "so did Karin tell you she's pregnant?" I HATE those surprises. I don't have the ability to go along with the flow quite so easily anymore. I need to be prepared. Everyone turned and looked at me, and said congratulations. That's great, but I don't like being the center of attention. I feel like we've already been through this before, and people will just wonder if this one is going to work. I wonder if we'll take home this baby. I don't need to assure others when I have a hard enough time assuring myself.
I told my mom later that I didn't appreciate an announcement to a group, and she thought it was fine because we're all family. It was still a big group to me. She said she'd tell my uncle's family before I came home. I don't know if she did. Or if she told them I don't want to talk about it. Maybe it's easier to pretend I'm not pregnant until I have a big belly.
Everything seems too complicated to simply be excited.
Aaaaannnnnnnnd here's the current ridiculousness...I partially tore my Achilles tendon. While drinking lemonade. Sitting at a picnic table. My chiropractor thinks it started when I sprained my ankle last month (I managed to roll it twice in one day), and since then I've been walking to compensate, which has caused the muscles and tendons to shorten and tighten. It was ready to pop. And pop it did, followed by a shooting pain up my calf.
It's a good thing the chiropractor in my hometown is a family friend who was willing to see me at his office on a Saturday afternoon! He worked the muscles, and although I was in a tremendous amount of pain later, it has been much, much better. So I'm spending my vacation in a La-Z-boy with an ice pack on my elevated foot. Worst case scenario: he'll put me in a boot when I go back this afternoon.
Oh well. Hopefully it will match the dress I'm wearing to my brother-in-law's wedding on Friday. The second part of my vacation is in a lake/resort town later this week. I'll be a limping, pregnant bundle of fun! :)