Today has been, well, absolutley horrible. It's hard to really explain what's happening right now in regards to my morning sickness, without absolutley repelling every woman (who hasn't been through this before) from ever having a child; and any man from ever agreeing to make one.
But because this is my journal, and I can write about whatever I want, I will say that I had no idea that my stomach could actually make "throw-up-sounds" while dry-heaving. But I can assure you all, with broken vessels on my eyelids and a newfound rapid fear of eating anything within my reach, that it certainly does.
What stuns me, is the fact that I never knew it could be this bad. I had *no* idea that women go through this all the time! I mean, I had heard of morning sickness and I had heard that it could be terrible, but no one had ever stressed to me just how terrible it really was. It's almost as though this has been some kind of unmentionable secret that Mothers share around the world, afraid that if the news got out, no one would want to get pregnant. Ever.
Or maybe I just didn't pay much attention to the pregnant women around me, at least not enough attention to actually inquire about how they had felt during their first three months. Did they lose circulation to their hands when they slept at night? Did their skin start turning orange? Did they bawl their faces off while throwing up in the bathroom sink?
And even when someone actually did say, "Yes, I was very sick during my pregnancy," everyone would just sort of give them a sympathy nod and ask them how much their baby weighed at birth.
As I lay in my bed, unable to sleep or move or eat or stay warm, I talked to my Mom on the phone and she said something to me that made everything seem to fall into place. It made me realize why those Mothers don't dwell on the first trimester of their pregnancy, and it dawned on me why none of the women care to talk about the lowest of the lows, when you feel like crap and you want to wake up from the nightmare of being stuck over a toilet every second of every day.
She said, "You have cuteness growing inside of you."
And that is exactly why no one cares about all this gross stuff. Because the end result, is all the cuteness that came from us.
2007-10-25 (8 weeks)
Manning Up
Today I talked to my brother on the phone and explained to him how horrible I was feeling, how everything made me sick, how this bucket has become my best friend/worse enemy, and how exhausted and sore my body is every single minute of every single day.
"Eat some chicken noodle soup," he suggested, to which I quickly explained to him how disgusting anything-noodle is to me right now.
"I think you just need to man up and grow some balls," he replied, completley serious. And just as I started to tell him that unless he can get pregnant and do it better than me, he's officially not allowed to say anything - my brother informed me that he had written a letter the day he found out I was pregnant for my baby on it's 21st birthday.
For all the things that this letter probably contains, all the dirty secrets my brother knows about me, and about all the 'wisdom' he wishes to share with my child, I know that this baby could not have a more supportive and loving family waiting for it on the outside.
That alone, makes me want to man up a little bit more. But I'm sorry Justin, I refuse to grow any type of "balls".
2007-10-24 (8 weeks)
Status
I am very sick.
Every day, every morning, every afternoon, every evening, every night.
Everything makes me queazy, from smells to tastes to the look of a bruised apple. When I walk too fast, when I sit up too quickly, when I watch a fast paced tv show; my stomach starts reaching up towards my ribs as if to prove it just can.
Here's a list of things I cannot handle:
- Pasta. Disgusting. The smell makes me wretch, and when (and IF) I make it for Chad, I need to wear a scarf tied around my face.
- Some cheeses. At times, I'm able to eat cheese, but usually only if it's *on* something like toast, etc. Otherwise...gag me with a wooden spoon.
- Beans. The strange thing is, I crave this often. However when I eat them, I usually get about 2-3 spoonfuls down and run to the bathroom.
- My Dogs Breath. Don't even get me started on this one.
- When My Dad making gagging sounds into the phone. He's so funny. (Enough said.)
- The smell of plastic. I can't explain this one, except to say that Grocery Stores smell like plastic bags and it makes me wretch.
- Bleach. The dishwasher, when open, is my worst enemy.
- Hearing someone burp. (Proven to make me run to the nearest bathroom.)
- Anything squishy. If I can press it, and it moves, you probably don't want to be near me.
Well, folks, that's about all I can handle writing about for now. Apparently making a list of all the things that make me nauseous, makes me feel sick.
Awesome.
2007-10-22 (8 weeks)
Bike vs Car
This weekend, I did the unthinkable. I hit a guy on his bike. With my car.
Now, before everyone gets all shocked, with their jaw's dropped and their eyes bugging out of their heads, I need to let you know a few very vital facts that contributed to this situation.
1.) There was *no* crosswalk for this biker. In fact, there is a big yellow sign informing all bikers to *de-throne* and walk their bikes across the road, an entire BLOCK before the accident scene.
2.) It was around 6:30pm and I was driving west down a long hill. The sun was in my eyes, and I could barely make out the shape of the car infront of me, let alone anyone making a beeline for the other side of the road.
The good thing is, when I actually made impact with this guy, I was only going about 7-10k around a corner, which means that HE actually scared me more than I hurt him. There's something very horrible about having a man rollercoaster over the front of the hood of your car, seemingly out of nowhere, especially when you're pregnant and very-very horomonal.
As a side note, this weekend was particularly horrible for me. I want to say that I felt "very, very, very, sick" but that would be an understatement. I haven't been this sick since the beginning of the pregnancy, and my Magic Bracelets don't seem to care much. But because it was so terrible, and I'm afraid that thinking of it will make me have to run to the oh-so-familiar bathroom; I'm not going to get into details.
All I'm gunna say is that somewhere along the line, I think I almost threw up my pelvic bone.
Oh little baby, I love you. And if you ever talk back to me.....
