Barbaric yawp

I want to tell everyone. Someone who knew we were thinking about it asked me flat out today if I were pregnant and I stumbled my answer. I'm not about to tell strangers before I tell my family...but I want to. I want to drop it casually into conversation. I want to find excuses to tell waitresses, bank clerks, salespeople. I am so very bad at keeping my own secrets.

Also, things you really can't do anymore, even if you're only 8 weeks pregnant:

1. Suck in your stomach. Do your abs just totally fail? I have gained almost no weight, but it all sits out in front now.
2. Skip meals. Or even stretch them. I've made myself ill and dizzy twice keeping to my usual schedule of "eat when it's convenient." The Embryo Demands, and it is not to be ignored.

Twenty-minute crying jag this morning, upon waking to find that the dogs have eaten the crotch out of two of the last four pairs of pants I had that still fit. I have no sense of proportion these days. I screamed at the guilty mutt that I hated her and sobbed my fool heart out. I've felt drained and miserable all day since. I knew my mood swings would be bad, because I've barely managed my PMS all these years, but I had no idea it would be like this.

Off to the first doctor's appt - no ultrasound, and I don't even know if they can check heartbeat, but whatever. Hopefully they'll be able to confirm that the pregnancy is viable, at least. Think twinny thoughts for me.