But I Don't Feel Tardy

So, I suppose it had been a while since I posted. Sorry about that.

I'm cool. Hubby's cool. The seedlings are, for all I know, chillin'. We are 14 weeks today. My next appointment is Tuesday. And I am really, really looking forward to it.

Will I get an ultrasound? Will we get to see some heart beats? What guarantee will they give me to ensure that something's still going down down there? What's the protocol for these "normal" OB appointments?

Because maybe I haven't posted because I have yet to feel it. You know, feeeeel it.

The other weekend, I was indulging in an evening of total control over the remote control while hubby was working late (and I now understand why I rarely get that privilege when there is more than one person on the couch) and I found myself watching Velvet Goldmine, one of the worst movies ever made, but one of my favorite. Jonathan Rhys Myers, Ewan McGregor and Christian Bale? All tarting it up at 70s glam boys? Come on. What's not to love? Anyway, at one point, Ewan is writhing on stage in what is obviously his best Iggy Pop impersonation and is screaming, imploring,

can you feel it . . .
I got a feeling
I got a feeling
I wanna feeeeeeel it
oh, I wanna feeeeeel it . . . . . . .

And I knew exactly what he was talking about.

I'm feeling great. Energized, non-pukey. Looking fatter, but was I really all that svelte 14 weeks ago? Happy. Functional. Hubby mentioned the other morning, "Oh my god, somebody's got their funny back."

So, can someone please verify that I am indeed pregnant?