Rob and I went in for a "routine" check-up today that should have taken 30-45 minutes. THREE HOURS LATER, we finally left the hospital. After reciting a litany of symptoms that are vague enough to be frustrating but uncomfortable enough to have affected my life poorly, the doc ordered up a second urinalysis (Nurse: Can you pee again? Me: I'm pregnant. I could have peed five minutes after the first urinalysis.), performed a pelvic exam (poor Rob looked everywhere else he could - have I mentioned that our family practice doc is a man?), and a sonogram.
No bladder or urinary tract infection.
No unusual bacteria of any kind in whatever cultures they performed.
Cervix is nice and thick and long, as opposed to... I'm not really sure. I think he was steering clear of saying anything that hinted he was checking to ensure that my body wasn't preparing for preterm labor. I saw right through that, MISTER!
On the Doppler, Marilla's heartrate was 155 beats per minute. On the sonogram, 135. We got a photo that looks really strange, mostly because baby must have put their opposite hand up by their face. The profile is almost wolfish, it's so long in the chin/mouth area. As usual, it was very reassuring to see an actual baby in there. A wiggle-worm, no less, and I marvel at how little of all that squirting around I feel yet.
So, the good news is that there's really no news. I've continued to lose weight, much like I did when pregnant with Blake, but back then I went from 140 to 130 in the first trimester and promptly starting putting weight back on in my second. I'm now WELL into my second trimester and have, once again, lost a total of 10 pounds from my prepregnancy weight. Thing is, I started out weighing more than I did when I delivered Blake, so I wasn't really worried by this news... I mean, I have the weight to spare, you know? The nurse and doc weren't very happy with that though, so I promised to try harder to find more protein and veggies to scarf down. The vague, frustrating, and uncomfortable symptoms (plus fatigue) are the main reasons I find eating a chore right now, and I'll spare you the details, but I'm no longer nauseous. It's just, well... nothing sounds very good, and I don't feel very good.
Until Rob fries up some bacon and eggs over easy while I melt cheese onto toasted English muffins to wrap around the eggs and tender bacon and then I wish he could make me breakfast every morning.