February 13, 2014

Blog Revival

My hero/endocrinologist, Dr. Waguespack
Hello? Oh hi, there blogosphere! It’s me. I’m still here. Alive. And kicking. I’ve been doing a lot of blog reading lately, but embarrassingly enough, NO writing. The sad part about this situation is I FINALLY have fun, happy news to blog about!

Shortly after my last post wishing the ol’ blog a Happy Birthday, I went back for a 6-month checkup at MD Anderson in Houston. My bloodwork and ultrasounds looked GREAT and I got a clean bill of health, so much so that my doctor doesn’t need to see me again for a year. JACKPOT.

In the days following that good news, we celebrated and almost bought a house (whew, what a mistake that would have been). A few short weeks later, one trip to the bathroom would change our lives FOREVER.
Dramatic, right? Don't worry, our toilet is nowhere near this clean.
I peed on an over-priced piece of white plastic and it said something like,
“OMG SHEILA, YOU ARE PREGNANT!” 
Okay so the test itself didn’t exactly say that, but that’s what I was thinking as I quietly went into the other room and said, “Kevin, will you come look at something?” I wanted to make sure that I wasn’t crazy and there was DEFINITELY a blue plus sign there. I was afraid to even touch it for fear that the blue dye would erase like an etch-a-sketch.
The faintest blue line I've ever seen. But it was there!
I even asked the ladies in my NFP group for reassurance!
(12/2/2013)
Thirty dollars and a few more tests later, I decided it was time to call my doctors. Yes. More than 1. More than 2 actually. I have a TEAM of doctors on the case for this little bambino to make sure we both stay healthy.
This is the snapchat I sent Kevin
from the Ritz in NOLA. I was on a
work trip and just had to do another test.
CLASSY! (12/3/2013)
The third and final test I took before Kevin told me I was
insane to keep buying tests! (12/5/2013)
I immediately started the lovely Lovenox injections in my stomach twice a day because of my history of blood clots in 2012. It’s a good thing I’m not the type who’d want the bare-bellied maternity shots taken, because this bruised stomach is not pretty. I’m already storing these kinds of nuggets away for when I have a piss-ant teenager who I need to put in line, “I did not give myself shots in the stomach twice a day to be talked back to by a smart-aleck teenager!” 
We told our families on Christmas Day (the Kowalewskis in Missouri) and a few days later (my parents in Mississippi). 

I’ll save that for a later post.

P.S. We have videos and they’re great.

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