My goodness, what a long time between drinks ... HA!! Sorry I have been remiss in the posting arena - a) my internet has been dodgy b) school holidays and c) a dog ate my homework. Actually, I've been thinking a lot of my previous post, and how it all just came bursting out. Thanks to you who left such warm, accepting and uplifting comments. It helps me stay true to myself and not be so ashamed of my past.
I notice this is my sixty-ninth post. 69 heh heh. Poor Mr TC has had no action in that department since my follicles were ripe and juicy and ready for the plucking. Parched indeed!
Apparently, I still have the tiny embie on board. 5 more sleeps until my scan, the sweet, glorious scan of enlightenment. I cannot WAIT. But wait I must. I have symptoms - on and off. I've felt brief periods of nausea. My new favourite meal is from McD0nalds (or, as Tiger would say, McDomino's) ...... consisting of a six pack of nuggets laid neatly sandwiched inside a quarter pounder. Thank God the nearest outlet is 40 minutes away, or I'd eat it every day. Also, I've laid right off the chocolate and am going for anything salty and tasty. Hormones have kicked in too ...... poor, poor Mr TC. He's away for 10 days at the moment (RUN! RUN FOR YOUR LIFE!!!) I always blamed my intense feelings of anger during my time carrying Tiger on the fact that I was oly 4 months clean & sober. That seems not to be the case at all. I am an angry, moody psycho. Must maintain an exercise regime. Maybe meditation. Maybe a locked cupboard.
Of course, every morning I wake up and do NOT feel preggers in the slightest. Trying not to get upset or worried so much. Mr TC rang this morning from his African drumming camp - I told him my concerns. In his wonderfully blunt way, he said "Look hon, you're past the point of am I, aren't I. You definitely are - and if there's something wrong and the baby is deformed, well, we wouldn't want it born anyway so it's all for the best".
It appears I strangely felt better after that.
I finally have told Tiger. We were swimming at a pool, no-one else was there so I thought it was a good a time as any. He couldn't believe it, he was so, so excited. "Can I name it? I know - let's call it ... ummm .... ummmm," looking around at the pool and spa "Let's call it swimmer!" Considering the state of his fathers very own swimmers ... it was quite apt indeed. He thinks he can feel it kicking already, and kisses it hello in the mornings. He wants it to be a boy so he can put it's hat on backwards and teach it to "Peace Out, Y'all".
LOTS of people now know. I'm uneasy about it - but I'm seriously showing so much! I think that's a good sign, it's already making it's presence known in the world. I desperately hope that I don't have to untell people. I've made a pact with myself that if I see the beating heart next week, that's it. No more ridiculous, unhealthy, obsessive worrying about if it's still alive.
I'm still shocked and surprised by this - I can picture myself turning to hubby during it's Bridal Waltz, saying "I can't BELIEVE you had sperm!!!"