Twenty Ten

My Mrs is Ten Weeks up the duff today. It's still in there and we even saw the little tacker. ( I almost said blighter which is not the best of choices). We saw the now "foetus" a week and two days ago and it has a heartbeat. KT and the two Dads were there too so it was really crowded in the little dark room and therefore didn't take much for me to flood it with tears. I had been a wee anxsty in the lead up let me let you. My history of scans is appalling, bloody awful. It is riddled with comments like No, that's not an eight week foetus, more like six and I'm sure it's just at a funny angle; sometimes they get camera-shy and I might just see if the Doctor is available to come talk to you and I can't really see the hearbeat.

So when we saw the heartbeat straight away it was a good start. But what I wanted to hear was That is for shizzle an eight week foetus. And what we got was 8 weeks 5 days. So I bathed the room and everyone in it with my relief. I know it's only rock and roll, but I like it.

Last night I went to my twenty year school reunion. I told everyone of my impending motherhood. That was huge fun. People were totally excited and gorgeous. Lot of babies born of that year. An average of eleven per old-girl. Quite a few miscarriages among them too. Hadn't seen most of the women there for twenty years. Everyone said I was exactly the same. I denied it.

So now we crawl to the second tri and see if we can score a field goal. I shouldn't do sport talk, I know.