The Harmelings

OK, today I am 20 weeks pregnant. That’s halfway. Therefore, the prego-blogging floodgates have opened.

Now, one thing we all love and hate about the DJ is his affinity for being slightly inappropriate in public, and his slightly offensive sense of humor. (We were just discussing this earlier today, as I was recommending that he know his audience before using some of his favorite expressions.) Anyway – the DJ has so kindly said this about pregnant women, “Its amazing that pregnant women gain weight at all, considering all they energy the burn complaining.” Nice. He’s cute huh? And he is mine, all mine.

So, be forewarned, prego blogs will always contain above-average amounts of complaints. Its just a fact. Take that, D.

So we go in for our 20 week check up today. Everybody knows that a 20 week check up should include an ultrasound. We were counting on it. I mean, we need to find out the gender and all right? (I know, we already know the gender. But Dr H doesn’t know we cheated on him and had a bonus ultrasound with dear friend Amy.) Well Dr H says we should just wait for next week, for our Level 2 (read: old lady, advanced maternal age, AMA) ultrasound, since it will be a more detailed study. Dr H lets us listen to the heart beat real quick to confirm this massive belly holds life, not just cinnamon bears, and then pretty much ignores me. It seems Dr H much prefers the DJ (he is not really a DJ you know) over his patient, and now every time we go in, he spends 3 minutes on me, and 20 minutes talking legal and ethical crap with the DJ.

EFFECTIVE IMMEIDATLY: the DJ is no longer comming to OB appointments. Give me back my ultrasounds and fundal measurements, damn it!