I am pretty much the worst at everything I do these days, and completely non-resilient. Hence closing my door to cry at work. Oh well. I am sure i will one day (in like 18 months) be a productive member of society again.

We saw the blob yesterday at our 8 week appointment. Very....blobby. The ultrasound tech is the worst. She's very cold, and parrots these re-rehearsed lines, while throwing in her particular brand of anti-choice cheer. (I happen to know her politics, so I can recognize WHY she insists the "baby" is "completely developed" by now. Sure, who needs eyelids the open and close? or working lungs?) But still, thanks for helping see the Deuce. Heartbeat = 170. For those following it home, this is an old wive's girly sign. Just saying.

We also learned that my midwive's are being crosscovered by most ob practices in town, which means it's highly likely someone I don't know will be there for delivery. My fave midwife already said I could get induced to be sure I had her, but after experiencing pitocin contractions once? No thanks. I am just relying on good karma and luck that Karen, the fave, will be able to do the delivery. Even though I think my friend J. may have just used that exact same karma for the exact same purpose.