It's weird, when you've spent so much time hoping and wishing and trying, and expending all of this effort towards something, and nothing happens. When you've give up hope, start doubting whether you even wanted that thing in the first place... that's when it comes along.
I've started calling it my "Jelly Bean". I hate jelly beans after an ill fated class trip to Washington D.C. and I decided it would be a good idea to eat an entire pound of them. Sometimes, I call it "Little Midge" No idea if it's a boy or girl, no idea if it's one or two or more... but it's in there. Hopefully growing and hopefully working its way towards becoming a real, live, baby.
It still doesn't seem real. Maybe it's the way I protect my feelings, I always set myself up for disappointment, so that way, when things actually work out, it's a nice surprise. Just so many things can go wrong that I'm refusing to let myself believe I will come out of this with a real, live human. I'm not dwelling on all of the things that can go wrong though, and that's good.
We're not really waiting to tell people. I figure, what's the harm. Sure things can go wrong, but there are no guarantees in life, and we want to share our joy with those we love, even if its only for a little while.
So far, I've just been crampy, and headachey, and very very tired. Last night with dinner, I had a momentary thing with the chicken and I had to spit it out before I puked, but I'm hoping it was a one time thing. Apparently next week is when all of the morning sickness and all of that jazz is supposed to kick in.
I'm not eligible for my company's health insurance plan until after my 90-day probation, so that should be at the end of next month. In the mean time, I'm applying for state care because an initial visit at the OB is $230. MADNESS. We qualify for Obamacare based on last year's taxes, but I have no idea how to go about applying for that.
I'm going to pee on a stick at the doctor's tomorrow for the confirmation of the due date for the insurance application. Apparently doctors don't usually see you until 8 weeks though. 3 more weeks feels like so long to wait after knowing that it look so long to get here. Are my progesterone levels low? Do I need to start Metformin now? Is it implanted in the right spot? How many are in there? When do I need to worry because I'm O- and Hubbs is O+? Am I going to need to lose weight to insure a safer delivery?
Blarg. I need to just stop for a second and enjoy this ride. We're here, this is happening. Let's just go with it.