(okay, this picture is technically only 3w4d, but when we took it we thought it was 3w6d, and yadda yadda who cares there's nothing there anyways) I certainly didn't feel very pregnant, so I kept peeing on these:
Week 5:Still nothing to see here, folks.
This photo was taken the day before THE SICKNESS really kicked in, and therefore it marks the last time I blowdried my hair until some point in week 9. In between, I rocked the wet-hair-in-a-bun look, punctuated occasionally by the wet-hair-in-a-clip look, and more often than I care to admit, the I-washed-my-hair-yesterday dry-hair-in-a-bun look. It was attractive. The ghostly pukey paleness and also ACNE! and also half-assed makeup really didn't help.
Week 7: No picture of me, but how much cooler is THIS anyways?!
This, my friends, is when things got REAL. I was so nervous going in for our first OB appointment. I mean, what if I made this whole thing up? What if it's really not real and I just read those pee sticks wrong? They're going to laugh me out of the office. I sat in the waiting room next to all of the ACTUALLY pregnant women and felt like a total poser. Hubs met me there and I'm sure felt totally comfortable as the lone male in a sea of very pregnant women. My name was called and thankfully our doctor cut right to the chase with the ultrasound first.
This particular exam room was outfitted with a giant wall-covering mirror placed just opposite the exam table. As if having a strange man stick an ultrasound wand you-know-where wasn't awkward enough for my husband already, he could now watch from all angles. Hubs wins a prize for scooting his stool up by my head and staying there. The doctor turned the screen towards him and let us know that he'd take a look first and then show us everything. This is code for "I'll make sure there is an actual baby in there and that it doesn't have three heads before letting you in on the fun". Cue the both of us holding our breath and hubs grabbing my hand. Not two seconds had passed before we heard the sweetest words ever spoken, "oh good", and the screen was turned towards us. And there was our BABY! And there was an unmistakable little flicker on that little blob that meant our baby had an actual heartbeat. This stuff is amazing. Seven weeks and with a functioning heart. This is the kind of stuff that just makes you never question that there is a God.
Sidenote: when the doctor first turned the screen towards us and started giving us a tour of my uterus, he directed our attention to the "two little blobs you see here". I heard an audible whoosh of a breath sucked in by my husband and felt his hand clench around mine. The doctor quickly explained that one was the baby and one would turn into the placenta. But for those three seconds, my husband was convinced that we were having twins. Apparently when you grow up with twin sisters 22 months younger than you, the idea of twins loses all association of awwwww fun! and only carries with it flashbacks of two screaming babies. My husband is happy to tell anyone who will listen that babies in our family will be arriving single file. [Al and Lex we love you! I still think twins are awwwww fun!]
Week 8: You'll just have to picture me laying on the couch not moving and still with no bump on your own.
I decided to get back in the original week 4(okay, 3) outfit just for official comparison sake. I'm sure you're saying, 'oh great, awesome, let's compare no bump to no bump, la la la, why did you even start taking these pictures so early, you crazy blogger?'
But if you'll kindly directly your attention just slightly north of the bump (no bump) zone... oh boy! Do I get to keep these things?