Originally, all I could think of to post today was puking. More puking.
Trust me, I'm as sick of hearing about it as you are. Possibly more so.
I left work around 2:45, because honestly, once you've spent over a half hour in the office restroom hunched over the toilet while praying that no one walks in to hear you throw up the orange juice you drank this morning because MY GOD, THAT'S ALL THAT'S LEFT, I'd say the day is pretty much toast, right?
Right. So I left. And while I drove home I tried (in my head) to compose an entry about puking that went above and beyond your usual entry about puking. Bonus points if I was able to refrain from mentioning Ceiba's diarrhea.
But then! When I got to my front door I realized that joy! joy! my rented Doppler had arrived. Instead of an entry about puke and poop I could write about heartbeats and the weirdness of lubing your stomach up with ultrasound gel on your living room sofa! About how all the misery is worth it when you hear that little sound! Brilliant!
But then I couldn't find the heartbeat. All I could find were the sounds of my miserable heaving stomach, assorted whooshing sounds and some static whenever a cop car or ambulance drove past my building.
So I started recomposing my entry. And it wasn't funny. It was all sorts of panic and fear and betrayal that here I've been, consoling myself that while vomiting Spaghettios is certainly a low point, at least it's a sign of a healthy and progressing pregnancy, MEANWHILE, my baby has clearly died at some point and it's all fucking pointless.
Then I decided to try again. I relubed the probe (dirty!), and instead of slowly scanning around my belly button, I mashed the damn thing directly INTO my belly button.
whoosh whoosh whoosh whoosh
OH THANK GOD, I thought, and I started thinking about the sappy, sweet post I would write about how every time you hear that little thumping, it's a bloody damn miracle.
But then I made the mistake of popping in the CD-ROM that came with the Doppler and listening to the assorted heartbeat sounds it contained...
...including the sound of a mother's pulse picked up through the device.
So now? I'm totally confused. I think I might be picking up my own pulse and not the baby's. The whoosh I'm hearing seems too slow and doesn't seem to match the 10-week-old heart rate on the CD, but I'm not sure. I might not be counting right. (Every time I stare at a second hand on a watch and try to count at the same time? I end up counting the seconds and not whatever it is that I'm actually counting.)
So in summary: haaate.
And if anyone out there is pregnant and considering renting a Doppler unit and would like to make me feel better, rent it from BabyBeat.com and enter referral code 12953. If you keep it for three months or more, I get 10 WHOLE DOLLARS.
I could buy a lot of onesies with 10 whole dollars. Or beers, depending on whether or not I'm even pregnant anymore.
And may you have better luck with the stupid Doppler thing and not end up throwing it across your living room where it leaves a big, sticky lube-stain on your rug.
UPDATE: Y'all rock. I was looking up too high. Stupid printed doppler directions that I follow to the letter. LIKE A SHEEP, I am. Houston, we have a heartbeat, and it makes the heartbeat on the sample CD sound like SHIT. Clearly, this baby is a genius, which is great, because his/her mother? Is freaking retarded.