8 weeks, 3 days

That's how pregnant I am. I've never been this far along before, so this is uncharted territory. I have had some cramps in the last few days, which I do not appreciate, but the nurse said not to worry (yeah, right) unless I see blood -- not spotting, but actual red blood. (No spotting whatsoever, and you can bet your grandmother's Venetian glass collection that I check every single time I'm on the toilet.)

Our next appointment is at the clinic on Monday. If all goes well, I graduate to an actual OB -- just like a regular pregnant lady! -- and have an appointment with one later that afternoon.

Meanwhile, the Twin Freakout Level has been reduced to Schoolbus Orange from Blood Transfusion Red. I find denial is a wonderful thing. But it's hard to deny completely -- last week my pants began to be tight, and this week I had to raid the supply of clothes I saved when I lost a lot of weight four years ago, in the event someday I'd need them again. (I'm attributing my larger size to a twins thing because probably most women who are eight weeks pregnant with singletons aren't out shopping at Pea in a Pod.)

Even some of the clothes I saved are too small in the waist. I thought I'd just buy a few things in larger sizes at the Gap, but when I couldn't find what I wanted in the store, I ordered a few things from Gap Maternity. Of course I am conflicted about this: I fear I'm jinxing myself, but at the same time, since I work in an office rather than a gym, I need to attend my job wearing something other than sweatpants.

Viability is still a huge concern. I've had a few dreams where I started spotting, and at least one with a too-small embryo on an ultrasound. (I think there was just one in that dream. See? Denial.) Sometimes my breasts aren't as tender, or I feel more energetic, and I think, shit, this is already going downhill. But then a wave of nausea hits, or I feel assaulted by fatigue, and I think, this still seems to be happening.

Hopefully the doctors on Monday will agree.