Here is a more lighthearted post than the last one. I didn't mean to bum everyone out, and I really appreciate the outpouring of support. You guys make my life a happy place to be. Now, onward!
The last time I was pregnant I vaguely remember swearing that under no circumstances would I ever get pregnant again. As two years ticked by, all of the discomfort and (let's be honest) agony of pregnancy were slowly erased by the trials, tribulations, and joys of parenting. And now that I have made it through the first 11 weeks I am here to report to you things that ought not to have been forgotten:
unbelievably sore breasts As in, don't breathe too close to me because I find the air currents you are creating to be nearly unbearable in their force. And then take that level of sensitivity and pair it with a two year old who really enjoys employing a full body tackle whenever he can slide one in.
the gas And I'm not sure how I forgot this one, but I did. Everything gives you gas. And not just mild intestinal discomfort (no, no that would be too easy), but you fart like a middle aged man after nacho-and-beer night. I have discovered that Adrian thinks farts are at the height of humor, making me a one-woman comedy show. And when you happen to pass one in public, you get horrified looks from passers-by because they don't know that you're pregnant. They just think that you need to lay off the beans and learn some manners....mmmm...I could go for a taco bell bean burrito about now.
the cravings Sandwiches. And more sandwiches. I feel like I could live off of sandwiches. I go though a one pound loaf of sandwich bread in about 6 days. And it's always the same sandwich: miracle whip, meat, lettuce, tomato, cheese, mustard. Also, I've really taken a shining to grits. Made with milk (not water) with a little cheese swirled in. Although if you're really looking to get in good with me, pick me up a veggie roll from your nearest sushi stand.
the nausea And I've talked about it with people, so I know that I had it with Adrian--all day every day for four months-- but it still managed to come a a surprise when I woke up one afternoon and said: ugh. the idea of food makes me want to puke. This time around I only suffer nausea in the evenings, which isn't so bad except that it squishes any desire I have to actually cook dinner.
the irritability I don't think I'm as bad as I was last time but Aaron says that it's just because I have more people to be cranky at. Which I don't think is true, because Iwas pretty damn cranky at Jim last time. It's just--do what I ask you to do THE FIRST TIME. That's all I want. Adrian can't seem to comply because he has the attention span of a gnat. Aaron can't seem to comply because half the time he "can't hear me" (call me Mumbles!) and the other half the time he has the attention span of a gnat. A word of advice: don't criticize a pregnant lady. It doesn't matter if she was in the wrong. It's not going to end pretty.
Irritable? Me? No!
Okay, more often than not, but I try to keep a lid on it. I'm surging with hormones, people. There's only so much I can deal with on a daily basis.