Folks, here’s a story about the week I thought I was 2 weeks, 10 weeks, and 14 weeks pregnant.
When I first found out I was pregnant, I thought I was about 2 weeks along. Chris and I wanted to wait until the first trimester (3 months) was over to start telling people. It was going to be tough, I was aching to tell my mom; but Chris and I pinky sweared, which is law between us homies.
A few days later, I saw my doctor and told him about all the issues I had over the summer. I thought I had narcolepsy, depression, anemia; I shouldn’t self diagnose with Google. Anyways, we went over my cycle dates and symptoms and he dated my pregnancy at 10 weeks! Oh my, I was surprised! And sheepish!
Days after that, Chris and I went to my dating and viability ultrasound. I’ve never had an ultrasound before. I had to drink 4 glasses of water, 2 hours before, and not pee. I failed about 1 hour before, so I drank another glass of water. I failed again 30 mins before, so I had yet another glass. Not really sure if that last glass made a difference, but I’m an overachiever.
Chris was my driver, my washroom finder, my rock. Solid guy, that guy! We anxiously waited for the ultrasound tech and I imagined the bb would be a blob. Stubby everything and indiscernible. The tech came in, set me up real good and the image on the screen wasn’t what I expected.
Chris said, “Wow, that looks like…a body.”
I said, “Are those fingers?!”
The tech said, “Yes, you can see the hand there".”
I said, “Really?”
Tech said, “You said you were 10 weeks, but you’re further along than you thought.”
We said, “Really?!”
Tech said, “You’re closer to 14.”
We said once more and louder, “REALLY?!”
Surprise of my life. I must have looked funny; eyes wide open, mouth wide open. Catching flies. I looked over at Chris and I don’t think I’ve ever seen him so happy.
That’s the story of how I skipped over the first trimester. I didn’t know I was pregnant, y’all.