So Far, So Good Things seem to be getting better. The Doctor told me it would be like a switch that would one day, "just turn off". I'm not completley sure that my switch is off yet, but I am hoping that it's starting to consider giving itself a break.
Lately I've been able to keep food down. A lot more food than normal. Like portions that could actually be considered real meals. The only problem is that for the past many weeks, I had been reduced to a few bites here, a couple of nibbles there; and my stomach seems to have shrunk.
Now, when I'm eating food, I get this gross feeling in my stomach as though my body is trying to figure out whether or not it can actually digest it. It takes a few good hours after any meal to actually feel okay again; but the good news is that I'm keeping everything down. And I think at this point, I need as much nourishment as I can possibly get.
In other news, I've started keeping an online photo journal. Many of you already know about my passion for photography, and I've decided to start putting my pictures online. There are some shots I've just posted that I took this past summer/fall of my mother-in-law's garden; and I will continue posting regularly. Please check back often!
Thankyou so much for being so delicious. I know I have been getting strange looks when I open the fridge, pull out your bottle, dump you in a cup and chug every last drop. But I love you. I can't get enough of you. And if I could pour you in my eyeballs without it stinging, I certainly would.
I know that this is just a 'pregnancy craving', and that when I have my baby I probably won't desire your sour goodness as much as I have been right now. But that still means we have seven months together, and I can tell you right now that no one will be getting between me and my lemons.
If I've ever wanted to reach the stars, my dear Lemon Juice, you've just helped me get a little bit closer.
Love,
Your Biggest Fan,
The Pregnant One.
2007-11-14 (11 weeks)
Baby, We Hear You My palms were sweating as I lay ontop of the metal bed, staring at the ceiling. I was nervous for two reason. One, because I didn't know what to expect. And two, because I was stark naked underneath a few sheets.
When the nurse had instructed me to "get undressed" as she pointed to a few folded peices of material on the shelf, I figured that those folded peices of material were gowns. You know, the kind that hospitals and doctors offices usually have for their patients, with the arm holes and the ties in the back. But when I unfolded them, I stared in confusion. There were no arm holes, and there were no ties in the back.
"These are sheets." I told my husband, in obvious confusion. "There must be some mistake."
"You have to lay under those." He told me.
I stared in objectified horror. "Like, butt naked?"
A few awkward moments later, I was feeling incredibly nervous and wondering exactly what kind of tests would be happening during our first prenatal visit. But because our Doctor was fabulous, everything went smoothly.
When he looked at the sheets I had filled out in the waiting room when we first arrived, he started to laugh. Confused, I waited for an explanation; which basically was something along the lines of, "You wrote your Mother's information in the area which is supposed to be about you."
So yeah, I felt more than a little dumb. Apparently I'm not used to filling out forms that say "Mothers Information." And then the Doctor chuckled some more, looked at Chad and said, "Apparently you are a Fire Marshall. Congratulations."
By this time, I didn't even remember that I was still naked under some flimsy sheets, lying on a cold metal table. And by the time the Doctor said to me, "Let's do the fun part next," and held a tiny microphone contraption to my stomach, and let us hear the babies heart-beat....well, I didn't even care.
It was so worth it.
2007-11-13 (11 weeks)
I dropped Oatmeal on my Dog's Head
This is the week that Chad and I have been anticipating since the beginning of October. It's hard to believe that I'm nine weeks pregnant (or rather, eleven weeks if you prefer to count like the doctors,) and that almost two months ago we found out that I was, in fact, pregnant.
When I think about the past two months and everything that my body has endured, I'm surprised to find that I'm still alive and walking. And if you think I'm kidding, let me put into a different perspective for you.
Imagine that you are going to catch the flu for a few months. Maybe you will even have it for many months. It will be a violent, blood sucking flu, that will take every ounce of food and energy you have, and you will want to pull all the hair out of your head and out of everyone's head around you, but you can't because you barely have enough energy to look at someone's hair let alone yank it out of their scalp. Not to mention that you will feel like an emotional rollercoaster, because that's just what this flu bug does to people. It makes you cry at silly and unpredictable moments, or laugh when it is quite unneccessary, or lose your temper over the fact that someone just took the last banana that you wanted to eat. A nice, big, ripe, yellow banana which you had your eye on, and they put it in their mouth before you even had a chance to say,
'Hey, I wanted that big, ripe, yellow BANANA!
Your energy level will decrease so much that your balance will be off in great proportions. And when you attempt to give your dog some of your left-over oatmeal (because you cannot eat it after all) you will drop the spoon and it will land all over the top of his head.
You will think you're going crazy, and you will not have a good's night rest because you will be up to pee every few hours, but when you sit on the toilet to pee, you won't - because it was just your body's teasing way of saying, "Haha! Made you look." And to make matters worse, this flu is going to make you feel sick with pretty much anything you see, smell, or hear. The world around you will become your enemy because even the things you love the most will turn into the things you cannot stand.
And when I say that you will feel sick with everything you see, hear, or smell; I mean you will feel sick. Instantly, and without warning, you will break out into a sudden sweat and a hot burning sensation will fill your stomach and you will clutch your throat or your tummy or cover your mouth in an attempt to ease the sudden nausea, in hopes that you can make it go away just by wishing it.
But it won't. You will lurch, gag, grip the edges of the kitchen counter and close your eyes and force yourself to think of rainbows, or kittens, or flowers. But rainbows will make you think of skittles, which will make you gag. Kittens, will make you think of the litterbox, which will make you run for the bathroom. And flowers will make you think of "flour" which will make you think of pasta, which will be the end of you.
So you see, I'm very-very excited about this doctor appointment tomorrow.
