To you…at eight weeks.

Today was a really special day because it’s the first time I actually got to see your face. It was pretty blurry and I couldn’t make out any of your features but it was you alright, no doubt about it. And you’re beeeeautiful.

I was so nervous while I waited for the doctor to come into my room. I was just positive she was going to say that my urine sample showed no signs for pregnancy and then immediately haul me off to the looney bin. I actually convinced myself on the drive over that maybe, just maybe, I’d made the whole thing up – that I was willing the symptoms to come each day and my period to stay away.

Paranoid much?

But lo and behold, I’m not that crazy after all. You were in there all right with your little heart beating at a billion beats per minute. You’re the size of a kidney bean which still seems small but I was reassured that you’re exactly where you’re supposed to be right now. Don’t tell your dad but seeing you there on the screen rivaled the kiss on our wedding day as the most amazing 30 seconds of my life!

Other than that major highlight, the week has flown by. I’m doing my best to keep up with my exercise but I’m so damn tired that if I don’t sneak over to the gym at lunch my motivation fizzles and it’s everything I can do to make it home and into my jams. I keep reminding myself that exercising 5x/week throughout this pregnancy is more than sufficient but I really want to get a daily routine locked in. Plus it really does help me stay up past 8:00 at night.

Last night was a lost cause. I had planned to make grilled chicken and veggies for dinner and Mike was going to join me on my evening walk with Lola. What happened? I bagged my dinner plans in place of homemade bean burritos (still healthy the way I make them, I might add), Mike walked Lola alone, and I passed out on the couch while the sun was barely setting. Poor Mike got stuck playing fetch with Lola in the backyard, cleaning up our dinner mess, prepping our lunch/breakfast, and breaking down the bed so all I had to do was crawl into it a little while later.

You’re lucky, I did really good and married a saint. That’s your pop!

This weekend will be pretty mellow. Mike is off to Vegas for a wedding so I’ll be on my own with you and Lola. Typically, I’d take this opportunity to watch 80’s movies, take a hot bath, and drink a bottle of wine by my lonesome but things will have to change some this go around. I think we’ll keep the 80’s movies in rotation (it’s never too early to teach you the difference between Blaine and Ducky or explain why Molly Ringwald was the best thing to happen to teen angst) but I’ll replace the wine and bath with some fro yo and a long walk with Lola. I hope you enjoy it as much as I do!


Your Mamacita

One thought on “To you…at eight weeks.

  1. Pingback: She’s Having a Baby. « Tangled Up In You

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