Well, the cat is out of the bag!
Apparently all things exciting for me happen on Labour Day. My (now) husband and I moved into together on Labour Day. We got engaged the following Labour Day. And two summer later, we got married on Labour Day. All unintended. And this year? We found out we were expecting on...Labour Day.
I wanted to share the news immediately, but had been strictly instructed by my mother a year prior "Do not tell me until I can share with everyone." Well. Damn. So our plan was to tell everyone at 14 weeks (of course with a select few sharing the news earlier!). Of course life never goes according to plan. My parents decided to piggy back on hub's parents visit in October. At this point I would be 10 weeks. Yikes. Earlier than I anticipated telling them, but it felt too ideal to have all four of them together in Halifax (for the first time!) and not share the news. So we did. And managed to keep all of them quiet for one week. At 11 weeks we shared with our siblings, and immediate families. Earlier than I would have liked, but ideal, I guess, under the circumstances.
Today I am 13 weeks and decided to share with our extended friends and the internets. I broke out the camera yesterday (it's times like these I'm thankful for a tripod and remote!) and snapped some pictures. I had a hard time choosing between the two photos I have posted here. My preference was the legs picture, but my Mom and Dad preferred the one with my face. So I posted both.
I've been very fortunate to have had a very uneventful first trimester. I still wonder most days if I'm even pregnant. If it wasn't for the blood test I would really wonder. Okay. Well, except for the fatigue. But the fatigue was actually worse when I was going through my thyroid issues. If only the next 27 weeks can sail by as easily and smoothly as the first 13.
It feels like you're in a perpetual state of worry - in the beginning, wondering if you'll even be able to get pregnant. Then, a nagging sense of what might be wrong if you aren't successful right away. And of course the inevitable mind-numbing worry that everything is okay and will continue to BE okay once you actually get that + or "Pregnant" appear on a stick.
Entering the second trimester offers somewhat of a minor relief. In my corner of the world you don't get an ultrasound (u/s) until 20 weeks (unless you are high risk, or you may get a dating u/s if you have absolutely no remote ballpark idea when you last had your period.) and don't hear the heart beat until you are at least 12 weeks. It's all about what is medically necessary and extra scans for an otherwise uncomplicated, healthy pregnancy, are unnecessary. So I sit. And wait. And hope that everything is okay. In one week I'll get to hear the heart beat. Perhaps then my own heart can rest a little easier.