Because Holding My Breath Would Be Bad for the Baby

It was 4am Oct. 29, and I had to pee. Since, I was awake and I did not want to have to wake up again in an hour before Joe (my husband said I can use his real name, so no more J.D.) went to work ( he likes me to test when he's around),  I  figured I'd POAS. Mind you it was not a mind fetus type of testing being done. It was more of a wouldn't it just suck if I was pregnant and went off the progesterone and screwed things up type of test. We didn't even try that month. But there it was a positive test. Another positive pregnancy test. The first words out of my mouth were,"Oh Crap!"

So here we go again. I went in to confirm the pregnancy the first day of my missed period. I had to make an appointment with a doctor other than the one I just started seeing. His name was Dr. Ohm. Which is nice because "Ohm" was kind of neccessary at that point. In fact, the nurse couldn't even take my blood pressure that day. We did a progesterone check and a beta check. Both came back looking good. My doctor actually said my progesterone was a bit high and asked if I wanted to take a lower dose but I said I'd rather not. We didn't do a series beta because my betas always double and if they weren't there isn't anything they could do anyway. So I didn't see the point in having to make another doctors's appoinment and get stuck with another needle when it wouldn't provide me with any peace of mind.

Our first ultrasound showed me further along than we had thought by five days. I was six weeks four days. The baby had a heart beat of 133 bpm. Everything looks really good so far, but it has before. Even my doctor expressed the sentiment that she wished I was just 30 weeks already.  But I'm not. So I fall asleep at night with my fingers crossed and praying. And I try to remember to breathe.