Still here, still can’t talk, still can’t think of a bloody thing to post. Still taking one day at a time, still no bleeding (yay heparin), still nothing going on. And i do mean nothing. I am nothing but a yogurt-eating slug fest. Apparently, I’m still pregnant, though. I can type the word, but not say it….. at least not in connection to me.

Went to the regular OB yesterday, with all the usual suspects in the waiting room. All the pregnant ladies and their multiple other kids…. the nonchalance was absolutely deafening. Hard to sit there and take it all in, but I did. This whole other world is out there, and if I am lucky enough to make it through this time, it’s going to be a difficult transition for me. Being a very private person, I don’t appreciate anybody in my business uninvited (which is mostly because I have an awful lot of business) and pregnancy is an open invitation for attention and input, from everyone everywhere. Urgh – run away. I’ll burn that bridge when I have to.

The rat’s measurements were spot on (9w4-5d), heart rate 180. You can identify bits now – arm and leg stumps present and accounted for. It was very still for the measurements and then seemed to get very, very angry. Or maybe it was having a seizure…. Flopping around, waving all stumps, shimmying, rolling… it was doing something in there and resented the invasion of privacy. Very, very funny.

D went with me, seems to be planning on attending every single appointment with me if he possibly can. He missed a few last time, including the very last scan. Yesterday, D was pretty quiet during the appointments, TCB on his iPhone, texting and answering pages when he had to. During the scan he turned his phone off, stuck it in my purse and leaned forward to see. Then he started patting my shoulder (constantly), not saying a word. The tech did all the talking, with me interjecting “Cool!” once. When the she was done and I was getting dressed, he gave me a hug and went out in the hall to take yet another call, still hadn’t said a word.

He is much less vocal than I am about his feelings (typical guy), and if directly asked he would downplay it. Really hard guy to read at times. I sometimes forget how everything that’s happened affects (and has affected) both of us. At this point, neither one of us is willing to say much out loud. But maybe we’re beginning to have hope? Is that tempting fate to say that much?

Screw it. I think we are. And maybe that’s not such a bad thing.