Eight Weeks

I feel like I've been pregnant for years but it's only 8 weeks and 2 days and the first 2 of those weeks don't even count.  I look more pregnant than 8 weeks as well – my tummy is getting rounder and rounder.  I'm trying not to think about how big I'll get if we make it into the third trimester.

I had another flow of blood on the evening of the last ultrasound.  The internal exams must be dislodging blood that's caught up in my cervix – I wish they wouldn't because it's nerve wracking!!  I'm still leaking small amounts of rusty discharge (again with the too much information – sorry!) and my stomach is still a little sore.  And I'm still in the house, which gets old.  I'm jealous of all those pregnant people who get to keep doing what they usually do while they're pregnant. 

At least I'm now well supplied with crappy detective novels thanks to Travis's efforts yesterday.

Dressed for Death (Commissario Guido Brunetti Mysteries) Proof The Burglar in the Library The Burglar Who Thought He Was Bogart

We used Carla's cunning plan.  Travis phoned me from the bookshop, I directed him to authors, he read me titles, and I picked a few.  It worked so well that I think he's going to go downtown to the second hand bookstore this afternoon to get me a pile of out of print mysteries.

On the whole, I'm not so sure that this pregnancy thing is a good idea!!  I'm hanging out for the second trimester – the chances of miscarriage go way down and apparently that pregnancy glow kicks in.

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