I wanted to write a funny post about my newly developed superpower: my sense of smell.  It's a blessing and a curse.  Instead, I have to write about how I hate my doctor's office.  I had originally scheduled a "pre-conception meeting" with my doctor to talk about trying to get pregnant.  When I found out I already was pregnant, I thought I should call the doctor's office and update them on the situation.  That was a mistake.  Look, I'm already so emotional.  I've been in alternating states of tears and rage for the past couple of weeks.  So when the idiot receptionist (maybe she's nice in real life, but in my newly pregnant life she's an idiot) tell me not to bother coming in until January 13th because they can't even tell if it's viable until then.  Viable.  Well shit.  It never even occurred to me to wonder if it was viable.   I stammered some meek protests, but the gate keeper was standing strong.  No appointment until I'm 8 weeks along.

Luckily I can call L, who's a reliable expert on almost everything.  She also has the comforting ability to tell you she doesn't know something.  So I can trust what she tells me.  She called me down, told me what prenatal vitamins to eat, reminded me not to eat cold cuts, and above all be calm.  Ah yes.  Don't freak out.  I forgot about that one.

So I feel better.  T still called the docots office and gave them what for, but we have to wait until January.  I'm going to try and erase "viable" from my mind, and just be excited to hear my little bean's heartbeat!