You know you're a graphic designer when

I picked up a copy of "What to Expect When You're Expecting" at Goodwill. I figured I'd save some money and still get all the info I needed. I've been avoiding this book simply because it's the one everyone reads, and I, by nature, eschew anything that everyone likes. I'm snobby that way.
So I sit down, and start leafing through. "Why is this typography so 90s?" I'm annoyed and not even really reading the material. I start to realize their data on twins seems off. And hardly any mention of IVF and donor egg issues. The more I look at the layout, the more I'm weirded out. "Gah! This seems so dated, I can't even look at it!" I flip to the front and notice the publication date. 1996. "Oh" I think. "That's kind of old. No wait - that's FOURTEEN YEARS AGO!" Time for a trip to Powell's.

Milestones

AND in case you can't quite figure out what you're looking at, here's some help:

No, we're not naming either of them Milestones. Or Miles or Stones. It's just a really really big deal to see these little beans actually moving, squirming, swimming about. That's a milestone. WHEW. To say I was relieved would be a massive understatement. I have NEVER made it this far before. They were squiggling around! It was amazing!

YAY!

9 weeks, 5 days

I have hereby been released from Oregon Reproductive Medicine! I’ve GRADUATED! They are Done With Me. It’s pretty amazing to be done with ORM. No longer will I sit in their small, quiet, tastefully modern waiting room, where the waits were never long, and all of six people worked there. Now I’m back in the hands of Dr. Nancy Grant and the fine people at Women’s Health Today, where the waits are ridiculously long, the co-pays are higher than I think they should be, and there is an endless loop of Dora the Explorer on a TV in the Kid’s corner.

At ORM, there was an odd, respectful quiet in the waiting room. Everyone is there for reproductive help of some sort or other, and it’s just sort of strange. It’s not upbeat or chatty, everyone is very solemn. Hard to describe. You never know if the person next to you is there for bad news, good news, to donate sperm, to donate eggs, or to recieve those materials.

Waiting at WHT, it’s fun to see so many different shapes of pregnant women. Some are skinny with obvious bumps, some are really big ladies with really big bumps. Some look like they might be about to give birth any second. Some are in high heels (?!?) but most are in their comfy duds. There was a punk girl there with her newborn in a sling, toting him along. They were both dressed in black. A nice reminder that moms don’t all dress in khaki slacks and pink polo shirts, and that I’m not destined for a beige existance. Hah.