9w ultrasound

Yesterday was the 9w ultrasound, our graduation from the RE. The whole experience was less dramatic and less traumatic; I knew to tilt my hips immediately, thus avoiding the OWOWOW drama.

In short: there is a critter in there, it is the right size, it has a heart and (I am assured) a head. My sweetheart and the doctor both said they could see limb buds, but I think they were lying.

Here's the ultrasound, if you like that kind of thing!

It was best described as "fetus in a snowstorm". The enormous round thing off to the left (far bigger than the fetus or sac) is an ovarian cyst... doc thinks it should start to recede in a week or so.

We have an OB appointment next Wednesday.

Yesterday I was just shaking and exhausted and happy after having had every muscle in my body tense for a week or so, out of fear of the 9w ultrasound. And now..?

If I'm happy, is that arrogant? Does that assure that something's going to go wrong to knock me out of my smugness? I am haunted by this happy chirpy post I made the day before I found out that the pregnancy was over. Logically I know that the happy post didn't make that happen, but my brain is a small primitive animal that links proximal events and sucks at figuring out causation.

If I'm scared, is that ungrateful? So far there has not been one single thing wrong, not one result for me to point to and say "meh". I haven't bled a drop. What more do I want, really? Women would kill to be where I am right now. Shouldn't I just shut up and enjoy it?

I'm covering all my bases by having wild mood swings, from elated to terrified. I'm both gratefully happy and humbly frightened! Of course, that also means I'm ungratefully frightened and arrogantly happy. Welcome to my brain. Over the lintel, in old English letters, it says YOU CANNOT WIN.

I do feel like I can be grateful for one thing: I feel pretty damn good. Morning sickness has been minimal; some waves of low-level nausea, but no pukin', not even close. In fact, I'm eating like a horse; I'm hungry every hour or two. Some waves of exhaustion, but mostly I'm just enjoying the fact that I slip off to sleep easily at 10pm, as my non-pregnant self struggles with insomnia. My breasts are sore, but they don't bother me unless I poke them. Other than the swollen abdomen I'm having a picture-perfect time. This scared me when I thought it meant nobody alive in there, but now that I know it's possible to feel this good and have a good-lookin' fetus I'm grateful for how much I've lucked out so far. My body really seems to like this just fine. GF says I look fantastic*, and I'm inclined to believe her.

And that's the 9w1d story.

Love to all of those who surrounded me with warm words and thoughts on my last post. I love knowing that y'all are out there, and that this tiny scrap of proto-humanity already has friends.

^*She may have been looking at my mammary glands when she said that, I don't rightly recall.