“You want proof? OK, let’s do an ultrasound.” Finally. I was seconds away from having concrete evidence that there was a little being growing inside me. Holy. Freaking. Cow. The ultrasound screen revealed a chubby little gummy bear with a big head, a big tummy and a rapidly beating heart. I didn’t cry, I just stared in awe, for who knows how long. It was, in fact, real.
The rest of my first trimester was a total blur. We spent those initial 12 weeks daydreaming and praying we make it to the next. We also discovered all sorts of funky new symptoms. I also learned to live without a slew of vices (i.e. No more prosecco binges and limiting my caffeine). As I approach the very last stretch of my third trimester, the first feels like another lifetime ago. I do look back on it with a sense of awe for what a true wonder this entire pregnancy experience has been.
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