BIG Changes

One morning in my 10^th week, I woke up, ate a little something, and started working on my computer. Suddenly, I came to a dramatic realization.

I DON’T FEEL SICK!

Could it be over this quickly?! Could I have dodged the “sick until 16 weeks” bullet? It didn’t seem fair after all I had been through that I suddenly feel fine. I almost felt guilty. Maybe REAL moms felt sick longer and I was just getting away with something?

While the nausea was all but gone, other symptoms started creeping in. I’ve never been a girl people thought of as “flat”. It’s not that I’m a Dolly Parton look-a-like, but there were many pictures in college taken by males at BBQs and beach days that somehow didn’t manage to include my head. So when I put on my unmentionables one morning and they NO LONGER FIT, I had a mild panic attack. How big could this baby be that it needs another size’s worth of milk? I walked into the kitchen that morning at breakfast and I think David said something along the lines of, “HOLY CRAP, WOMAN.” I decided it was time to go to Target.

Our 10-week appointment was bittersweet. It was our last appointment before going to a regular OB. The wonderful nurses and doctors began saying their goodbyes almost the moment we walked into the door. Everyone was a little bit teary. I had been at this office once, sometimes twice, sometimes even three times every week for the past 6 months! These people had become like family, helping us to grow our own family.

They gave us the big ultrasound room so that everyone could come in and see how our baby grew.  (You can hear everyone in the room commenting.) We all oooed and ahhhed at the baby’s fingers and toes and crazy little movements. It was one of the best days I can remember.

Before I left, I asked the nurse about that shooting pain I felt in my stomach the week before. This nurse, very southern, shouted, “OOOHWA! YOO MEAN SHOOTERS?” I just looked at her. “Like, shootin’ pains, riiight?”

“Yeah, right in my belly.”

“Yep. Those’re shooters! It’s just yer tendons stretchin’ to fit the baby in there! I had ‘em, too! Totally normal.” Cute name for a horrible, paralyzing pain. 

With questions answered and my last beautiful baby video at the reproductive office recorded, the nurses and doctors (literally) hummed the graduation song as David and I walked down the hall and out of the office. We smiled at each other as me made it almost all the way to the car, before I doubled over in pain.

“Shooter?”

I grimaced. “Yep.”