So lots of new things happening over here. My very kind and generous mother-in-law decided pregnant ladies and motorbikes don’t mix and decided to help us buy a car. WW wouldn’t even consider getting anything second hand so we have graduated from my usual shit-kicker, hidden at the back of the lot, to a brand new Suzuki from inside the showroom. I must say it’s quite pleasant to drive without the roof leaking on you every time you turn right, or worry that if you stall you will have to get out, pop the bonnet and fiddle with the starter to get it going again. Although these things used to make me feel like I was winning at feminism.
So today, instead of the usual motorbike, taxi, skytrain, underground train, walk journey we had a very nice and comfy 45 minute drive to the clinic to get our 8 week ultrasound. I managed quite well with the roads but stumbled a little at the parking. I had a long, fraught history with multistory car parks. The only damage I have done thus far has been navigating these dirty, gloomy, narrow bends and trying to park in too small spaces surrounded by big ass concrete pillars. My depth and width perception is not great.
Imagine my horror when we arrived in the multistory attached to my clinic and were waved into a (very f’ing narrow) car elevator. I don’t cope well in these situations, especially not with some dude waving his arms around in a foreign language and trying
not to giggle to be helpful. I got in OK but got into a little bit of a tizzy trying to get out. Multiple attempts at reversing, accidentally going back down and then having to go up again, shouting at WW, trying to give up, crying, shouting some more and eventually I was out. Bleugh.
So after a veeeerrrryyy long wait we we into ultrasound and we got to see Squirt. Arms and legs and everything. And we heard the heart whumpa whumpa-ing away at 165 bpm. Yay! Big smiles all around. I can’t believe Squirt is only 1.8cm and yet has arms and legs. Super cute. Plus Doc W said we could graduate to tummy ultrasounds next time ‘so as not to disturb the labia’. I swear my Doc can’t say words like ‘labia’ without blushing.
One rather painful butt injection of progesterone oil and then a slightly uncomfortable wait while the teasing nurse chatted to WW while leaning on my ass, and we were done. I spent a good 10 minutes getting lined up perfectly with the lift so I could reverse straight out without having to touch the steering wheel but we survived.
Symptom-wise I am still a sexy sleeping, farting, nauseous beast. To add to my general air of craziness I have developed an eye-twitch which, teamed with my forgetfulness and tendency to brain fart, I’m pretty sure has convinced my colleagues I am rapidly sailing over the deep end.
Speaking of work, we got all excited because my boss told me we could have maternity insurance which would save us thousands. But then the insurance lady at work said no. And then maybe yes. And then no again. And then she wasn’t sure. So my boss said she’d fight for us. Fingers crossed.
My cravings remain as unpredictable as every. A few nights ago I declared I wanted scrambled eggs. Which I had never eaten before. Thank goodness WW is such an AMAZING cook, and hasn’t grown tired of my unpredictable tummy. Scrambled eggs on toast has been my happy tummy go to dinner for the last three nights. I’m trying to stay off the chicken nuggets. I gained half a kilo since last Sunday, gulp!
Anyway I will leave you with some photos of Squirt (and lost sibling) back when they were itty bitty cell balls and the human shaped squatter we have now below the break. And, possibly a link to WW’s shaking iphone video. I hope I don’t jinx myself doing this.