ladies and gents, we have a date!

Today we had our first official prenatal appointment with the OB/GYN and then had our first official ultrasound.

Both appointments went great. We got the skinny on what's okay during the pregnancy (I'm allowed to get my hair dyed, pedicures are fine, and baths are okay, but most OTC medication is off-limits. Need to stock up on Tylenol apparently. And oh how I miss soft cheese. Honestly. Do you know how many delicious vegetarian sandwiches are made with feta? Most of them.) They made me pee in a cup, and took a ton of blood. The only test that Doc G thought might turn up problems was the iron check. And that's not a strong likelihood, but being a vegetarian there's a greater chance that I'm anemic. Pleased with everything we found out.

At 3:30 we had the "real" ultrasound. Meet tater! We think s/he looks a little like an elephant. Apparently tater's head is at the top of the picture. S/he measured .9 centimeters long, and according to the size, s/he is 6 weeks 6 days today. The official due date is March 19, 2011. The most exciting part was really getting to see tater's heart beat. It was beating at 144 beats per minute, and the ultrasound tech said this was right where we want it to be. Hooray!

So, all is well. I've had mild nausea all week, which is a good thing I'm told. And the exhaustion remains. For the entirety of our relationship, Brad has always been the first to fall asleep. No longer. 9:30 pm is now a perfectly acceptable bedtime. Maybe 10:30, but only if I squeeze in a three-hour nap during the afternoon.

early warning?

Turns out I knew little about "typical" first trimester symptoms. Very little. I'd heard about the nausea, but assumed that was it for early pregnancy. Wrong. Oh so wrong. There's the exhaustion, the random cravings, which I thought only popped up in late pregnancy (how I adore grapefruit juice and brussels sprouts, together). I miss my mom all the time, but this experience has made me long for her advice and sound reason. Eva has been getting an earful, and I told Meghan P-H so that I could pester her with questions. Meghan is my angel.

One of the things I've been experiencing is bad cramping, which I immediately guessed was a bad sign. Called the doctor's office last week to inquire, and they told me not to worry. It did not work. I called again this week, and they told me that I could come in for a quick appointment to make sure everything is okay.

Good news! Tater is in the right place and has a heartbeat, but s/he might be a little younger than we thought. Doc G scheduled a "real" ultrasound for right after our first official prenatal appointment to confirm viability and get a more accurate due date.

I think this week may not pass as quickly as I'd like.

what's up doc

I called my OB/GYN's office about a minute after they opened to schedule my first prenatal appointment. Had the calendar opened to the following week, certain that they would want to see me ASAP. Right? Right?

Wrong. I gave them my information, and they scheduled my first appointment for Friday, July 30. Three weeks!?! Aren't there things I need to know between now and then? Grumble.

surprise!

Brad has been in Pittsburgh for a few days, and I've been holding down the fort. Even though Brad and I started trying to start a family this month, we both assumed it would take quite a few months to conceive. Hence, when my sister got married five days ago, I didn't think twice about drinking and drinking and drinking (tiny Coronas go down surprisingly fast). But today I realized that Brad and I might have beginners luck. I called him and let him know that it was time to pee on a stick. Went to Target after work and perused the wall of pregnancy tests. Then patiently waited for his flight to come in at 8:15. Got home, listened to Brad emphasize how I should be holding said stick, did the business, and then fled the bathroom. A few minutes later, we returned, hands over our eyes. After a countdown we looked and SURPRISE! Success!

Immediately decided we needed a name for the guy/gal. Here's the train of thought:

Me: I think we're due in March!
Brad: St. Patrick's Day! Irish people! The great potato famine! Let's call it potato!
Me: How about spud?
Brad: Spud works.
[Cut to the following morning]
Brad: How's spud doing?
Me: I don't think I like spud anymore. The name, not the embryo. I like the embryo. How about tater tot?
Brad: I'm going to call it spud.
Me: I'm going to call it tater.
[Cut to the following day]
Brad: I'm going to call it tater.

We called our immediate family members and shared the news. Charles was thrilled, and seemed a bit relieved to know he would actually get to be a granddad. Eva and Jim were ecstatic, Caty and Jim and Stef equally so. Randy flipped out and asked if he could buy a round for the entire bar (Randy could not understand wanting to keep it a secret for a little while, but I suppose I won't be running into any of the bar patrons). Jared was quiet at first, then mumbled. Brad quickly let him know that it wasn't an accident, and Jared got excited.

We, of course, are over the moon.