Wow. Freaky. I'm Pregnant.

So I took 12 pregnancy tests. T-W-E-L-V-E. Okay. 13. The "most advanced piece of technology you can pee on" was negative, which sucked and sent me into a downward emotional spiral until I retested that evening with two more brand name tests and they were both positive.

The photo to the right is the last test... I had to prove to the digital world that I was pregnant. Besides, there's something wickedly delicious about having that word magically appear as a result of peeing on something.

I'm due on November 13th. That's Friday the 13th if you want to look it up on a calendar, which you most likely don't... but it's an interesting enough trivia that I thought I'd mention it!

We got pregnant on the weekend of the Vagina Monologues. How appropriate!

So far, it's going okay, I guess. Lots of pregnancy signs are a good thing. I am currently sitting in what seems like an unnatural position on the couch with a couch cushion behind my back because it hurts! My back, not the couch cushion. My breasts feel like they are being squeezed in a vice and my gassy tummy would make a truck driver blush. Shall we discuss the hormones?

I went to the doctor's office this morning and cried for most of the appointment. I was embarassed so I cried some more. She wouldn't give me a beta test because she said I was *obviously * pregnant, and I didn't need more numbers to agonize over. Instead she ordered an early ultrasound to check for 'multiples'.

Huh? Pardon me? She wants to check for TWINS????? It seems that I have a lot of factors that put me into that category. Fertility drugs. Age. Lots of eggs. Sounds like we are making an omelette. And the onslaught of major, major preggo signs. So..... although I am not convinced I am having twins, I am kind of in shock that the doctor even suggested it. She even wrote on the ultrasound request "check for possible multiples".

Okay. Later.