Well, the party couldn't last forever. I am now officially Very Nervous about Thursday's ultrasound. I spent the weekend analyzing every abdominal twang, yawn and boob throb. And the fact that I'm not puking. And that I only took one 3-hour nap, not two.
Intellectually, I know that I'm not going to have every pregnancy symptom in the book (probably). But I also know that progesterone could still be causing some of these symptoms, and that I could be having textbook symptoms and still have a bad ultrasound. Does the worrying ever stop?!? (I know the answer to this.)
I sense that the Mr. is having similar concerns, although we haven't really spoken about it. A week ago, we were joking about the baby needing pizza, or a backrub, or to watch American Idol instead of SportsCenter. The giddy jokes have tapered off, which is a little sad. I'm praying that we have reason on Thursday to ramp them back up again.
On a lighter note, we did allow ourselves one brief moment of baby-related revelry. We walked into town on Saturday night for dinner, and stopped to browse in -- GASP! -- Pottery Barn Kids. I've spent a fair amount of time in baby stores buying what seems like a hundred baby shower gifts in the last year, but the Mr. had never really been involved. It was pretty cute watching him inspect the cribs, sit in the gliders, and mull over whether he could live with a roomful of pink accessories should the Peanut be a Pea-nette.
And then we went out for Mexican food.
Because baby needed some refried beans.