I woke up at 4am this morning and made my way west. I’m tired, but a little wired at the same time. Oh, the joys of the first trimester!
I’m seven weeks and four days, which puts my due date in late March. Although the doctor I saw last week for my ultrasound swears I’m going to have a St Patrick’s Day baby. The egg yolk’s heart rate was 123, and it was glorious to see. K and I went alone, while Gigi watched C3. It was surreal.
Of course, I washed the prints from the ultrasound, so already Kid#2 is getting jipped.
I’m rolling through a lot of emotions – excitement, guilt, wonder, fear. We’re so excited – I’m so excited… I simply can’t believe it worked. I think I need to throw away any fear of infertility at this point. Or, maybe just not worry about it as much. I tested each day, timed as well as I could, and K took vitamins. And it worked.
We’re having another baby. Holee shit.