D-Day

The Mr. and I just returned from a little weekend getaway in Portugal.

While the two of us are completely skint, he happens to have extended family who are very much the opposite and we were lucky enough to crash at their enormous holiday villa in the Algarve from Friday til Tuesday. We didn't do much of anything other than eat, drink (no alcohol for me in the land of drinks with umbrellas in them. Humph.) and swim, so it was pretty much the perfect holiday. The sun and sea air managed to dampen some of the anxiety I've got over this pregnancy, although, strangely, on the third day we were there, the smell of the place started making me sick to my stomach. Sweet juniper and other vegetation combined to make this smell that I'm totally sure at any other time, I'd love, but while we were there, it totally made me gag. Morning sickness in 32 degrees C is not a party, although it's actually hotter now here at home (like Thalia said, we're having a freak heatwave in the UK at the moment) and sleeping in a house that's a hollow metal tube (did I mention my husband and I live on a narrowboat?) is not exactly a recipe for keeping cool.

My first scan is today and obviously, I'm having small breakdowns every 5 minutes. My rational side says, "Everything you can do, you've done already and you can't change it, so chill", but the part of me that got broken by the last two miscarriages that I try to keep locked up is trying to tempt the dog holding the keys outside the cell with a chicken bone. Fucker.

At any rate, I'll let you guys know how it goes. Fingers crossed for that heartbeat.