Welp, two and a half weeks ago I peed on a stick and sure enough the hCG spiked the double line. Upon discovering the news, Mike cried and has since ended his recreational racquet ball losing streak, which he swears is related. True to our marital dynamic, I did not cry, but immediately began to research miscarriage odds, which I continue to do to this day. Despite knowing better, I can’t help my Google habits after seeing my sister go through two heartbreaking losses. I’m constantly working on surrendering my anxiety, and have reasoned that I’ll consider nursery paint colors once we see a heartbeat.
Due to the intentional effort of zygote making, I was extra aware of the signs. Endurance in my workouts was nonexistent, my notorious terrible sense of smell was given super powers, and my lady humps were looking porn star worthy.
How far along? I am about 6 weeks 1 day.
How big is the baby? The embryo is the size of a pea.
Weight gain/loss? + 1 lb which is clearly from Halloween candy and not a pea sized growth in my uterus.
Maternity clothes? No.
Sleep? Sleeping great. I could use about 10 more hours on top of the 8 I currently get, though.
Memorable moments this week? I slept through trick or treating, fake drank at a bachelorette party, wedding, and Halloween party.
Symptoms? Very hungry and/or nothing sounds good. Teetering from raging bitch to politely sleeping.
Food cravings? Nope.
Food aversions? Nope.
What I miss? Turkey sandwiches and Christmas ale.
What I’m looking forward to? An ultrasound in two weeks.