Well…the rumors are true. And since my family has told literally everyone they can think of in the past hour alone, I may as well come clean.
I am not getting the stilts I wanted for my birthday. No birthday stilts y’all. It sucks. But…
Yes, on purpose.
I know what causes that.
I know how to prevent it.
And we were prepared. We even got the new car that we’ve been needing since we had Lucy.
I can tote a neighborhood now.
I’m pumped. We’re 10-ish weeks in and I’ve been pleasantly problem-free. I even killed a 6-mile leg of a marathon and broke my record time during a particular section of pregnancy that has not historically been easy for me; Bed Rest Toni usually reigns over the first trimester, but this time? I’ve been running and hiking and swimming and lifting ALL the things without so much as a cautionary call to the doctor. In fact, my doctor has been refreshingly unconcerned with my non-high-risk self and I haven’t had to see her one bit.
I’m starving and exhausted and intensely nauseas; this morning I spotted ever so slightly so I got a complimentary early ultrasound (jk, it was mos def NOT complimentary) at my doctor’s visit.
I’m at a complete loss for words.