16 weeks, II

I had an OB appt today and learned that my due date will not formally be changed to correlate with the ultrasound measurements I had done last month. This is for two good reasons: my 8-week ultrasound dating is technically more accurate as it was done very early, and, with my first child, statistics report that he/she may be slow to arrive and the later due date will give me a little more room for labor to start before someone starts calling for me to be induced. I've heard nothing but bad, painful recounts about being induced so I'd like to avoid that if at all possible. So, my formal due date is still scheduled for August 24th, hence marking this as still my 16th week.

A few other updates: I'm borderline anemic (not really a surprise since I'm really not that great at following a balanced vegetarian diet), have elevated thyroid levels from last month, and have gained 0 pounds. Doc said not to worry about the zero weight gain as I'll probably start to put on the lbs shortly, and that it's not a real concern unless I was losing weight. My next appt is in a month, at 20 weeks, and I'll have another ultrasound and gender details then!

Though I may have started a "bump" last week, and my boobs are growing measurably (finally!), I still don't yet look the part of Preggo Stef. I just told my office this week and they were all incredulous that I was as far along without showing. I'm sure the weight and belly will come shortly. At the moment, I do look pretty hot with my slight bump, swelled chest and sweet tan...perhaps I should enjoy the moments until I'm fat, engorged and uncomfortable...

Outside of the physical appearance, I haven't had too many physical ailments. I'm dizzy every once in a while, have the occasional ligament-stretching cramp, exhaustion, etc, but nothing really worth noting. My worst complaint at the current time is the unchecked emotions. It's not so much that I'm having random outbursts or getting upset without cause, but rather, I'm feeling a bit bipolar. My highs are heightened: my heart seriously could have burst last week just looking at Kenny with the love and adoration I felt for him as he was caring for my sickly, snotty mess of a self, and nothing could have been more perfect than lying in his arms last Friday afternoon on the hotel couch doing nothing but relishing the moment. And on the opposite spectrum...my lows are bad. My frustration tolerance is non-existent, like I'm 10 again trying to do homework I don't understand, subsequently crying, screaming and fleeing the scene (I foresee this proving difficult to navigate at work). And if I'm sad? Watch out for the water works and cries of despair and hours of following melancholy. I've become a melodrama queen. Hope Kenny doesn't mind for the next six months...