First doctor’s appointment down!
(Hi Daddy! I’m about to talk about my cervix! I hear there’s a good show about ice on the Discovery Channel! You should probably go there…xo-doodlebug.)
You know what I forgot? How much is involved with OB appointments. First of all there’s the needles, where they take enough blood I’m absolutely sure they can tell what I had for lunch last week. Then there’s the questions. BREASTFEEDING? EPIDURALS? GENETIC TESTING? PRENATALS? COSLEEPING? PEDIATRICIANS? TOP THREE COLLEGE CHOICES? And then there’s the peeing in the cup thing. Maybe people who have babies a little closer together don’t lose the “pee in the cup without peeing on your hand” skill, but I my friends have lost it. I give myself three appointments before I have that one down again. I was also surprised with a pap at my first appointment. A) I have a tilted cervix which requires more…prodding…to get to it. B) I have had so many medical professionals up in my cervical area that I can feel it suck up into my throat at the thought of it being explored. The doctor who handled my pap said I had “the most battle weary cervix” she had ever seen.
Aww, that comment kind of make me want to buy my cervix a cupcake or something. But that seemed as though it would bring on some kind of infection. So I just whined about it to Cody instead.
My ultrasound is on December 10th, 4 days before Addie’s 6th birthday. And if it’s possible to find out what’s inside me? YOU BETTER BELIEVE I’M FINDING OUT. If there was ever a time to throw modesty to the wind Mozzi, December 10th is the day.
Supposedly I look pregnant. I don’t feel like I do. I just feel like I ate too many popsicles and haven’t pooped nearly enough. Both of which are probably actually not too far off from the truth. I honestly have no recollection of being hugely pregnant with Addie. I know there’s pictures and evidence, but for the life of me I do not remember what it feels like.
I want to ask you what you forgot about in subsequent pregnancies. But I’m afraid of your answers. So let’s talk about your favorite stretchy pants instead, because those ones that are pictured above are still with me six years later. They’ve got holes and paint stains and frayed edges. BUT I LOVE THEM.