Counting your chickens...

Alas, in my joy to be feeling normal again, I spoke too soon. Over the past few days, the piggly wiggly has taken its chance to remind me that *it* is the one in charge. When it wants more energy to use on growing and swishing around in its tiny sack of amniotic fluid, it gets that energy...and I get to cry until I'm allowed to go to sleep. When it demands a higher caloric intake to facilitate further growth (and I demand it to stave off feelings of queasiness), it gets more food. I even try to oblige when it demands a foot-long sandwich from Subway with lettuce, mayonnaise, honey mustard, and three types of meat. The tyranny has begun...the baby is officially in charge of me. Resistance, as they say, is futile.

At least, though, the first appointment with the midwife went well. She's quite nice, and easy to talk to, which helps tremendously. Mostly it was just paperwork and a few blood tests for screening. Of course, when she stuck the needle in my vein and started wiggling it around to get the blood to start flowing, the husband sat watching and squirming in the corner. He hates needles. When I remind him of the size of the needle they use when you donate blood (just to keep perspective) he cringes and shivers in something I suspect is a combination of fear and disgust.

However, though I may have spoken too soon about escaping from under the cruel thumb of exhaustion and morning sickness, I am, at least, about to turn a nice corner. Come Wednesday I should be 10 weeks pregnant, which means that I've finished 1/4 of my time. That makes it sound like prison. Anyway, only 30 weeks to go from here...at least as an estimate. Of course, with the new-found discovery of lots of multiples being conceived in this family, I still have the possibility to knock 4 weeks off that time if it's twins. (I'm still waiting on that synchronised swimmer routine as a sign...baby(ies) have not yet obliged me.) Either way, we'll know on 6 April: our first look at the piggly wiggly! (Who is now the size of a prune, apparently. It should be the size of a lime when we see it.)