I'm pregnant. I'm 13 weeks up the pole. I've told my family, friends all know, my boss is informed and now that I'm out of higher-risk miscarriage territory, I can share my news. I was going to wait till later to tell everyone, but screw it. This is kind of big stuff for me.
And I've catalogued my first trimester in secret, which I will now publish.
I'm writing this in sections, as I'm not "out" about my pregnancy yet and I'll publish this in its entirety when I begin my second trimester.
Thursday, July 19
Pregnancy sucks. I'm six weeks along and I'm tired. I can't really sleep that well, but I'm tired. And I'm hungry, but I have food aversions and I can't figure out what I want. Currently, the only acceptable foods are butter chicken and chicken caesar salad. I was on an avocado kick until suddenly the thought of one made me want to die. I'm nauseas. I'm thirsty. My breasts? Sore. A little bigger, but who cares because they're aching and untouchable. My moon time feels like it's going to start any minute; these cramps have been haunting me for two weeks.
The Dude is onboard with me. He's making me foods I can eat, rubbing my back and generally giving me a little extra TLC. I appreciate the support. At first he thought maybe I was milking it, but a thorough explanation of my symptoms with the qualifier, "And I can't take a break," helped him understand.
I knew I was pregnant about a week before I missed my period. I just knew. I got dizzy at the gym and was so hungry all the time and I could feel twinges in my uterus, which for the first time ever was doin' stuff. The Dude didn't believe me at all and balked at my buying a pregnancy test, convinced that I couldn't know so soon. The movies and TV, after all, always show a woman vomiting and missing her period before realizing she's knocked up. Well, turns out that ain't the way she always flies. I was convinced and I was right.
We decided to try almost in a passive way. A sort of we're ready but we're not going to be all proactive about it. It'll happen when it happens. And it happened instantly. Like right away. I'm excited and happy, but Jebus.
I currently have an abstract idea about a baby. I wonder if it's a girl or a boy (We think it's a girl) and what he or she will be like. Will I have a fussy baby? A quiet baby? A needy baby? A cheerful baby?
But I haven't 100% adjusted to the fact I'll be an honest-to-god mother yet. Give me time, say 30+ more weeks. I'll get there.
Saturday, July 28
So, I'm almost eight weeks and I'm always thirsty. I'm peeing twice a night. I'm nauseas. And holy Moses, I am bloated as heck. I actually look pregnant, despite being too early to show properly.
I'm experiencing food aversions, and to things I usually love like hamburgers and avocados. I have to think long and hard about what I can eat that won't make me throw up. I haven't thrown up, but I feel like I could very easily. I need naps. I'm in a mental fog and right now making progress on my novel is too damn difficult. Blargh.
Thursday, August 2
A little over eight weeks, enjoying some nightly heartburn and daily constipation. My nausea is easing up a little bit, which is great. Food is still iffy, though not as monumentally awful as it's been. My nutrition has been crap.
I saw the midwife for the first time on Tuesday and signed up for care. She was great. I felt comfortable and I got a 45-minute appointment. She took some blood, and I requested all the genetic testing and doodads. I was reassured about food and some travel plans to Vancouver.
Honestly, it's really weird to be pregnant. I'm onboard and everything, and a part of me thinks I'm insane for bringing a child into this world. I want a child. But actually making a new person really makes you question the future.
Friday, August 10
Finishing up week nine and I'm kinda fazed how quickly this is going already. I haven't even told the family yet and I feel like I've been pregnant forever. Probably because it's tiring and I'm always hungry or tired or feeling twinges and aches in my uterus. So bizarre. It's like period cramps... but not. My waist is already 2 inches thicker. No one else would be able to tell I'm knocked up, but I sure can. I couldn't zip up three of the dresses I tried on today. I'll be honest, I was sad.
At least my boobs look awesome.
Saturday, August 18
I'm almost at 11 weeks. I'm a bit away from my ultrasound, about 9 days or so. I'll see the heartbeat and affirm that, yes, I am gestating. I can sense the changes, but without the belly yet, I kind of just feel under the weather.
I'm feeling better these days, though. I have to tell you, 24/7 nausea and constant heartburn really is no way to go through life. For the life of me I have no idea why so many women are encouraged to do this. I mean, if you want to, you'll do it. The drive to procreate can be strong, after all. But if not, if pregnancy and motherhood is not desired, what a damn burden it would be to endure this. Hell, I feel irritated about it and I really want to be a mom.
I'm only partially looking forward to sharing the news. I feel deeply uncomfortable when people fuss over me. I learned this from my wedding. I like support and good vibes, but otherwise I like to be treated normally. Except from the Dude. He may fuss all over me as much as he wants. Heh.
Friday, August 24
I am Bloat Master J. I've quit trying to hide it. My belly pokes out and I look super pregnant, and since I actually am, why not fly with it, even if I'm deceptively less pregnant than I appear. I mean, it's sort of freeing in a way. IBS expands me on a regular basis, but now I can just let it hang out. People are looking at my belly and seeing pregnancy and not gas. I've gotten offers to sit on the TTC (Always middle-aged women, actually, which is interesting). I feel like I'm cheating because I'm not even in my second trimester yet. But hells bells, knocked up is knocked up and my belly is nonsense big.
I bought maternity clothes a few days ago, just so when I outgrew my generous dresses, I'd still be able to leave the house. I tried them on over a strap-on belly at the store and nearly shat myself. The belly took up my entire torso, my torso being short to begin with. And despite this startling image, I was still looking into a much more adorable version of pregnant me than is going to happen. My breasts small, my face thin, my legs not swollen. The end result is likely going to be a lot more frightening.
My first ultrasound is in a few days. I'll be 12 weeks on the mark. Dude.
Wednesday, August 29
My first ultrasound went well. And the Dude's family knows about the pregnancy. The jig was up when I saw them at the lake over the long weekend. My fatigue and apparently my boobs gave me away. I'm waiting to tell my family till I can see them in person. It's hard not to talk about it, you know, since it's pretty much taking over my whole life.
But back to the ultrasound, things looked good. The fetus was flipping around and doin' stuff. I had heartburn and the whole thing was rather uncomfortable. But it was wild. I had half a mind that maybe I wasn't pregnant somehow. Well, that thought is out the window. I am most certainly gestating.
Too bad being preggo is turning me into a wet blanket. Constant fatigue sucks.