It was starting to feel like our first doctor’s appointment would never come! I remember calling the office as soon as we found out we were expecting - and then again at 8:30am when they were actually open ;) - and they told me I wouldn't be coming in until December 31st! It seemed like an eternity at that moment... and really for every moment after that until we were actually sitting in the waiting room.
Maybe it's because I haven't had any morning sickness, but in these first weeks it has been hard to believe that there is actually a new life growing inside me. I worried a few times that maybe, in fact, there wasn't. But now I know that instead of worry, my heart should be filled with joy and gratitude because there is undoubtably a tiny little Duffin cooking in my oven. Measuring exactly as it should with a heart flickering so strong it made me cry like a pregnant woman. (Which if you're wondering, is MORE than 'crying like a baby'. Am I right? I'll write a letter about getting that saying changed.)
Bobby was excited as well. He nearly crawled over top of me to snap pictures of the ultrasound screen with his phone. And thank goodness he did, because the ones the doctor actually gave us don't even show the baby! So here was our first glimpse at our little love:
Just a fuzzy shape on a screen, and the size of a blueberry... but loved to a greater depth than the deepest ocean.
I was given two days to revel in this joy before the first (and hopefully only) traumatic event of this pregnancy occurred. The bloodwork. I'm always a little jittery when walking into any situation where a needle will be stuck into my skin or blood will be removed from my body. So I prepped quickly by 1. warning the lady that I was nervous, 2. taking some pre-poke deep breaths, and 3. closing my eyes - the most important step, in my opinion. It started off just fine. The needle was in, and my blood was coming out. It was creeping me out that I could feel a vibration in my vein every time she started a new vial. I wanted my blood to stay inside of me so badly, but it was just *pumping* out and I could feel all of that effort. The nurse was doing a decent job of trying to distract me. She asked a bunch of questions about where I work and was complimenting my outfit, etc. - and I really thought I was going to make it through this experience just fine. But the vials kept coming!! I warned the nurse that I was starting to get dizzy and she said we were almost done. Two seconds later I said "ok, it's getting really bad now", and that was all she wrote. I completely passed out. When I came back to earth the nurse was fanning me, there was another lady holding an ice pack to the back of my neck, and a third woman came running in, all out of breath, with some smelling salts in her hand. Every inch of me was sweating and it took a moment for my eyes to come back into focus. We all talked for a bit and they said that the color was returning to my face. As I was drinking the juice they gave me, I looked over at the tray and saw the n.i.n.e. vials of blood that they took from my body. NINE! No wonder my body gave out.
So really, two things go without saying - I will never donate blood... and I will most certainly cry before my next bloodwork appointment. My fear has exponentially multiplied. :(































