The doctor has been visited! As a result I have no cute fruit to compare baby to because they put me at 12 weeks now which is what I was guessing I was last week. I heard the baby's heartbeat, that certainly helps quell the bizarre fears that I was making all this up in my mind and I was going to find out I wasn't really pregnant. It's just such a strange experience to be pregnant, so hard to believe until there's some kind of proof...apparently 24/7 morning sickness for months on end, a rapidly expanding waste line and bizarre eating habits just don't cut it for me. I loved the staff at the doctor's office, including the doctor, loved the facility, loved it all.
I left my very first appointment with a big 'ole bag of baby magazines for me to drool and coo over and I was a happy camper...until my next appointment, to start the medicaid application process, where I ended up in tears in a strangers office over money and obsessively appologizing "I'm so sorry, I can't believe I'm crying, I never cry in front of people." She reassured me that crazy pregnant ladies frequent her office on a regular basis and it was fine. And that there was still hope that in spite of the change in life that turned us into the owners of "income" property there was still a small hope that we would have a sympathetic case worker who actually took note of the fact that the rent we collect barely covers the mortgage on a house we couldn't sell. Living on a youth director's salary in a society built around the assumption that everyone is a two income family can be trying to say the least. God has never let us drown, there's no reason he would now, so why is it so hard to go forward in life with complete and utter faith that it will all be fine?
12 years ago
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