It seems that, beyond any doubt, complaining works: for the past two days, I have felt better than ever before, with absolutely zero vomiting, and only occasional bouts of nausea. Of course, truth must be told, I slept for most of the day on both days, but I have felt well enough to do my nails with Channel Miami Peach, my favourite shade of nailpolish, something that I would not have attempted before for fear of barfing from the smell of acetone.
Eating three meals a day over the past two days has put my weight back to where I was at the beginning of the pregnancy. From here on I have to be careful, as I have a tendency to gain enormous amounts in a short time (with Adrian I had gained 23 lb by birth time at 20 weeks). Most of it is water, but it is still very uncomfortable to carry around, so I have to cut back on the salt, which is hard since my newfound hobby is eating sauerkraut and olives. I do not make a pretty pregnant woman. I turn into an edematous blob with no waistline fairly quickly, and it goes downhill from there. At least that was my first pregnancy. From that point of view, I have remained remarkably non edematous so far, but this was only the beginning. Let the sodium channels flood open, and the water retention begin!
I am starting to have a belly! I should convince MrH to take some serial pictures of it. For all I know, I am now halfway through my previous pregnancy, and could be halfway through this one as well, you never know. I am still a bit negative after that ultrasound, but am trying to reason with myself that the chances are still on my side. And a cervical length of 3.5 cm is better than I had previously expected, or ever measured in the first trimester.
It is time to book my nuchal translucency, which I will be doing sometime next week at the Pacific Centre for Reproductive Medicine in Vancouver. I have never been there, but they seem good at first trimester screening. I am mostly excited to see the baby in high resolution, doing its flips and flops, it is endless fun.
I have been invited to another baby shower this weekend and have to report that it sucks just as much as it did before I was pregnant. I didn't go, could not bring myself to. I don't know what is with me and baby showers (duh, no, really, what could this possibly be all about?) but I get a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach that these babies were even conceived after Adrian was, and they got to term without any problem. Why them, and why not Adrian? I am also struggling with this other irrational feeling that if other people succeed and have babies, then I will fail again. I don't know why that is, but I am convinced that if other people can do it, there will be less luck left for me. Completely irrational, I wish I could disabuse myself of that notion, but unfortunately this is the psychotic flavour of the week. Lest anyone thought that I was a kind, charitable soul who only wants the best for everyone, I am acutally thinking that everyone can take a break now so I can have some of that happiness too. Ha. (with the exception of my blog sisters, your happiness for some reason gives me hope instead of fear).