The image you see above was taken this morning. Yes, that’s my uterus. And yep, that’s an eight-week old fetus you see in there. What? You don’t see it. Yeah, neither did we, but the doctor assured us that it is indeed there. And that the fluid sack looks really good. (I don’t exactly know what that means, but it sounds like it’s positive, so I grinned and nodded.) We got to see a heartbeat, too. That was the coolest part.

So there you have it, folks. I done got myself knocked up. And on our first try, too! Until we know whether it’s a boy or a girl (about 12 weeks from now), we’re calling it the Blueberry.

Phew, I’m so glad you know now. It’s been so hard not to talk about it on here. Pregnancy is ripe with blog fodder. For instance…

How do I say this delicately? I don’t fart. Really, it’s extremely rare. When GTB told me once that the average person farts 14 times a day, I told him I thought someone really gassy must be throwing that average. I now know who throws the average: it’s pregnant women. And I’m suddenly one of them. It’s incredible. GTB used to beg me to fart in front of him. He thought it would be a testament to how much I loved him if I could cut loose enough to do that. Now, I get a “Sheesh, honey!” at least once a day.

So, me being pregnant means you have all kinds of good stories like that to look forward to. Aren’t you excited?

This entry was posted on Monday, January 28th, 2008 at 8:24 pm and is filed under Uncategorized. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.