Meanwhile...

I under-estimated how grand it would feel to be pregnant after our awful scare. I feel like this is Act II....a fabulous chapter. Our second chance to enjoy. The baby must be thriving. I am growing at an alarming rate. So much so that my belly is demanding all eyes be upon it. My co-workers (all guys) focused their gaze on my mid section yesterday & said things like "Where did THAT come from?" and "Holy shit. You're fatter..." etc. I did not mind the comments. I patted the gut & made an apricot jam & cheese sandwich.
My weekend was spent sewing baby items, dressing a cabbage patch kid up in onsies and generally day-dreaming about how splendid my baby will be. I continued reading the "Pregnancy Guide" books that my gorgeous SIL lent me. I am keeping an open mind while reading these "Pregnancy for Beginner" style books. I do roll my eyes more often than required. I fear that is a side effect of years dealing with infertility & assvice. I am a little shocked to discover the baby will actually come out of my vagina. I really hadn't put alot of thought into that. I'll worry about that tomorrow. One of my favourite chapters talked about eating (do's and don'ts) and I instinctively closed the book with a deafening Snap after reading this little tip on Eating/Travelling:
"...if you are taking a long trip carry a flask of milk or fruit juice."
Well, ain't that fucking rocket science. I would feel very sorry for the person next to me if a drank a flask of milk whilst hurtling along in a train. Pasteurised.
I also stuck a list of Boys & Girls names (that I like) on our fridge & instructed Peter to gaze at them whenever he went to the kitchen. He already told me we can't call the baby "Thank Fuck"... which was my first choice after the chromosome results.
I guess that would be totally inappropriate.
Despite the catchy way it goes with our surname.