(200/365)

We got up bright and squirrely this morning for the first OB appointment for me and PB&J.

The attention that comes with PB&J makes me laugh. At the risk of judgment, I must observe: Everyone loves a freak show.

No, my tiny inside babies ARE NOT freaks. I think I’m the one qualifying for the freak factor here. I mean, there are four hearts beating in my body right now. I’m walking around carrying 16 arms and legs. Four heads. Maybe three penises. FOUR BUTTHOLES.

Wait, do they have those yet?

Anyway, you get the point.

Today’s OB visit was no exception. The receptionist knew me as having triplets the second I said my name. When they called me back to the exam room, nurses lined the halls – all to get a glimpse at the walking, talking freak show.

Everyone so far has been super sweet, so please don’t think I’m complaining. After all, this freak show got a just-for-fun ultrasound today just because the doctor and technician wanted to see the trio live and in action.

Today, all three babies were having a dance party. One baby was even fist pumping the air. I think that one will definitely come out with Rob’s Sicilian looks. GTL, baby. Gee Tee El. There were punches, kicks and even a few somersaults.

The one currently labeled Baby C was most active, then Baby B and finally Baby A. Baby A seemed a bit shy and difficult to get on camera, and it even was more mellow than the other two once the tech got a good few. It still had great movement, but it wasn’t as wild as the others.

There are no gender guesses yet (waaaay too early), but the tech wondered out loud if Babys A and B are the same sex because their sacs are right next door to each other, and everything about them looks about the same size. However, they could just look that similar because Baby C is in a different (further? more near?) position to the picture-taking thingie (technical term). Different perspective and all that jazz.

I shocked the crap out of my doctor when I told her I am not feeling the least bit nauseated. In fact, my most prominent “symptom” is extreme HUNGER. Oh, and that pesky bit about me turning worthless once the clock hits 6:30. Everyone tells me it’ll get better in the second trimester, but I can’t see how that’ll be since the babies are going to get bigger and wreak even more havoc on my body.

We shall see.

Just in case you don’t follow me on Twitter, here’s a quick photo I took of The Belly this morning. The Belly gets bigger and bigger as the day progresses and ends the day fairly ginormous for only being 10 weeks pregnant (times three). I’d show you that, but I look and feel like a worthless pile of poo by the end of the day and am usually laying about in my ratty PJs surrounded by food. HOT.

(I may or may not be sucking in what little I can at this point – I think it’s more of a good posture thing, really, but, you know – full disclosure and all that jazz I learned in journalism school.)