~*~*~*~*~*~ The First One (Sort of) ~*~*~*~*~*~
Today I am 11 weeks and 2 days - well according to all that fancy math they use at the OB's office. I figure it is all an estimate and really it doesn't matter because those exact numbers are used to calculate a due date, and only 5% of women actually deliver ON their due date (and my lucky cousin was one of those, I believe). But nonetheless, I am keeping track to the day. I was told to exercise - how about an exercise in futility?
I would like to think I have something unique to share, but at this point, I am just like any other 11 week pregnant woman. Prone to nausea, in love with my pillow, and just one Hallmark commercial away from ocular dehydration. Not to mention the fear that my appointment in 5 days won't show that beautiful 140 bpm I saw in January.
I have always thought that when something goes wrong, when you reattempt and make it further that the previous attempt, that your chance of success is so much higher. When I was dating my husband, I always told him that I didn't want to get engaged until we had been dating at least 2 years, because my previous relationship ended just slightly before 2 years. And now that we have been together almost 9 (and almost 5 years of marriage), that method of thinking seemed logical.
Last June, we had a miscarriage. At 6 weeks we had an ultrasound showing a little beating heart (although it wasn't strong enough to hear and get a heart rate). At 10 weeks, the ultrasound showed that we lost it. So, I feel that if the 2nd appointment goes perfect this time, that we will actually get a baby.