Weigh In

Today was my first appointment with Dr. H. since we had our "confirm" ultrasound.
I love him.  I know that Will "deals" with him because of me, but I love my doctor.
It especially helps when he says he is "selfishly glad we are back with him again."
Wait a minute...does he like us so much that he botched the Essure?
No. He doesn't like us that much.
It was fate.
The really great thing about being the ONLY patient he has ever had to have the procedure NOT WORK is that he is not going to forget about me at my appointments.
.....like he did that time....pregnant with Maren...he walked right past the room...didn't recognize us...sigh..
We are SURE to be on his radar this time. I bet he'll be right on time for the delivery.........................................................not in the shower..........or somewhere the hospital nurses can't find him.....................................
Ok Will, I see your point.

The only depressing thing about my monthly appointments is the weigh in.
You should see me. I wear as little as possible on to that scale.
"Wait. Just let me get this ring off.  Oh and how about my underwear."
"It's not going to make a difference."
"To you it's not, but I'm the one gaining weight here."
  It's like a Weight Watcher's meeting gone bad.
Yes.  Yes. I realize I'm supposed to be gaining weight.  I am not new to this gig. I am just saying that there cannot be a woman on this planet who likes to see the scale going the opposite direction, however "precious and wonderful" the outcome is.

Equally depressing was that Will lugged my "bin" of maternity clothes down from the attic the other day. Dear Lord.
There are just some "cropped" sweaters and "tie-in-the back" shirts that I  cannot stomach (ahahahahaha) for another pregnancy.
I have decided to look as un-frumpy as possible for as long as possible.
Easier said than done.
Since I am not on Facebook, status-ing my "oh so important" life, the word is slowly getting around that I am pregnant. In tandem to that, I think there are people who probably have some  unnecessary questions and comments about this pregnancy.
 I have been thinking about having a t-shirt made that says:

Yes I am pregnant.
No Essure didn't work.
Yes we are happy.
Why are you shocked?
Did you knock me up?
Yes I am going to be 40.
40 not 65.  
Get a clue you fuck nut.

You have no idea how good that would feel. I really think that would just put anyone's questions/opinions/comments to rest.
But I am not sure I can fit it all on one shirt and my ever-growing bosoms and bump would make some of the words hide and roll,  so it would probably end up looking like:

Essure are happy.
40 not 65 babies.
Knock me up you fuck nut...

I think I'll skip the shirt.