I am thinking of changing my default publishing settings here on the ol' weblog. "Publish Now" should really mean "Publish in Five Hours, When Amy Will Inevitably Need to Eat a Few of Her Words."
After mentioning how ever-so-calllllm I was on Friday about the lack of a doctor's appointment in my immediate future and blah blah cramping tra la laaaaaa, I was on the phone with my doctor's office several hours later procuring myself a first-thing-Monday-morning ultrasound because of the constant, painful cramping.
Carry toddler upstairs to bed? That's a cramping.
Go 10 minutes without a big swig from the water bottle? That's a cramping.
Bake yet another batch of brownies while standing upright? You better believe that's a cramping, fat ass.
He mentioned stuff I already knew: drink lots of water, lie down and rest as much as possible, is probably completely normal as long as there's no bleeding. But he also felt that it was worth getting a look in there as soon as possible, just to be sure.
I almost canceled the appointment several times over the weekend since the math suggested that it was way too soon to see anything useful, like a heartbeat or some tiny jazz hands. But in the end, I went, because CANCELING A FREE ULTRASOUND? Who the fuck does that? Sensible people, maybe.
And...yeah. It was way too soon to see very much at all, although we were able to confirm the existence of a single (whew) beanish and lumpy-headed embryo, right where it is supposed to be (double whew). Quasimobryo appeared to be about 5w6d old, just a day or two shy of the visible heartbeat stage. I go back next Monday.
For today's entry the role of Quasimobryo will be played by some random image Amy found on Google.