I'm fine. The fetus is fine. We had the first ultrasound two weeks ago. There's a heartbeat and it was swimming around and putting its tiny hand in front of its face. I'm thirteen weeks along, took a blood test to screen for Down Syndrome two weeks ago, and no calls yet. No news is good news. And yes, it's much too early to know the sex. If it cooperates we may find out in December, but these things are never 100% accurate.
No cravings, just steady nausea, and susceptability to certain commercials, like IHOP and Dunkin Donuts. I really do have an aversion to water, but I find that if I let it get icy I can tolerate it. I get up between 4:30 and 6:00 am to eat, usually cold cereal or Cream of Wheat. I eat, watch the Simpsons, and fall back asleep. Thankfully I work part time, so I can stroll into work at noon and still put in a whopping five hour work day.
And yes, that man really did call my husband, my unborn child, and me devils. I covered the baby's earbuds though I think the amniotic fluids did a great job of shushing him out. When we got home I congratulated the little fetus on surviving its first instance of racism, in utero. Say what you want about me and my husband. We're adults. But leave our child alone
You're never too young to learn there are bullies and racists in the world, I suppose.
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