7000 Days

So I met with my GP yesterday. She’s wonderful. When I told her I was pregnant, she was all happy and excited. It was kinda cool.

What wasn’t so cool was having to do a pap smear. Never one of  my favourite pass times. I hate the scraping, you know? But I suppose it had to be done.

I also had to have blood drawn and to pee in a cup and take it to a lab. Which I did today.  So I had my cup and another tube thing and a couple of official looking forms for the lab and somehow I got mixed up and well… I peed in both tubes.

As I was walking to the lab with my two yellow samples, I started to have the feeling that maybe something wasn’t right. And sure enough, it turns out the second tube was the sample from my pap smear that the lab was also meant to check.  The small office of five people all looked at me as I explained what happened and all did their best not to laugh until after I left.

I have an appointment to have another pap smear tomorrow.

Dear Future Bub,

I passed up the most delicious looking appetizers tonight.  I was at a business function in an upscale hotel where handsome waiters in black floated by with trays of champagne and imported beer.

The first round of delicacies included a little tart with chopped mushrooms, topped with… melted brie.  So I let that go by.

The next  was a lightly battered…calamari.

Now, I don’t mind the nausea (ok, I do –but I accept that it’s a condition of the condition) but this whole giving up my favourite foods thing is a bit much.  No coffee. No cheese. No yummy red wine.

I know there are going to be sacrifices. I’m ready for them. But I’m also going to start a little tally of every amazing food I have to pass up for you in the next 7 months.  And for each one I get a ‘because I said so’ to spend at any time in your entire lifetime.

I think that’s fair. Makes me feel better in any case.

Usually Charles is the one who gets sick all the time. Who can’t sleep.

Now suddenly, I’m catching every thing that comes by and lying awake at 3am every morning with thoughts racing around my brain.

There’s definitely a little piece of Charles in there.

I even feel like taking naps all the time.

How big it is now:

Did I mention how lovely Charles has been? We’ve been walking around in a mushy soup. Suddenly I can’t remember what we used to argue about. And he sends me texts like this:

Charles: “How’s my fam?”

Me: “Hungry. I’m eating for one and 1/100000 now”

(Hey, I warned you.)