Hey there, sweet pea.

Here we are, at 6w2d! Baby is now the size of a sweet pea, which sounds way cuter than a poppy seed or apple seed. I'm really learning a lesson in patience right now, because it's kind of hitting me that everything about this baby is going to be a waiting game. I'm waiting until 12 weeks to get the first ultrasound done, and that feels like forever. I decided to skip the early ultrasound for the sake of saving money, since we're paying a lot out of pocket. (The midwife is costing us a little more than we anticipated, but we feel like it's really a good exchange.) But it makes me want to pull my hair out, knowing that I have to wait six more weeks to see my sweet little baby. My midwife's assistant called me back yesterday to see if I want to do the initial visit earlier than the ultrasound visit, just so I feel like I'm doing something. I'm thinking...yes.

I'm still blessed to not be dealing with morning sickness. I have been slightly more queasy the last couple days, but no throwing up or dry heaving. I do think my sense of smell is heightened, because I swear I can smell my cats poop in another room. Gag. I've had a couple people come through the line at work, and I had to hold my breath to keep from breathing in their stank. The boobs are still pretty sore, and DH really thinks they're looking bigger. (For this flat-chested gal, this is momentous. I've waited my whole life for pregnancy boobs.) I'm already thinking about investing in a bra with no underwire, because it's starting to really be painful. (Just on a side note, I'm sitting here getting pretty nauseous, right after I wrote about how I didn't have nausea.)

I need a new sci-fi book series to read. I prefer stuff that isn't raunchy and ridiculous, so it limits my options. The last series I read was the Abhorsen trilogy, and I absolutely loved it. I used to read all the time, and I have slacked off drastically in my adulthood. What a shame.