No More Booty Calls

I'm finally getting around to posting about last Thursday's appointment, which went well.  I had a quick ultrasound and saw the baby, still alive and kicking at 12 weeks.  With the second trimester looming, even seeing the baby on ultrasound only eases my anxiety momentarily.  Hopefully it will help that I now have a working doppler in my possession.

Since mid-November I have been injecting myself in the rear nightly with a rather lengthy needle.  Because of my bad memory, I have relied on my cell phone alarm to remind me of when to do this.  The past few weeks have been spent weaning off the progesterone and I am now completely done with it.  The alarm on my cell phone has been turned off - there will be no more booty calls!

Yes, these are all the huge needles I've used to fill my fanny with fat.  I've gone through eleven vials of progesterone in oil.  I know just what you're thinking - "Annie, how many Snickers bars is that?"  The answer is NINE!!  And believe me, it shows.  Good thing Q likes big butts. 

Here's some more math fun:  All those 1 1/2 inch needles put end to end would add would add up to 111 inches.  That's 9.25 feet of needle in my backside.  For my friends who use metric, that's 2.8 meters.  I'm not sure which is more shocking - the 9+ feet of needles or that I actually calculated it.  This is what happens when someone who's taken lots of accounting classes spends too much time with syringes.