Disclosure: I'd like to preface this post by saying that, in my head, I realize that I know next to
nothing about being pregnant, having only been pregnant for 15 weeks out of my entire life. So, readers who have been pregnant for six months or substantially longer than me, I apologize. I realize I'm speaking on a topic on which I'm a novice, and you are far more experienced. However, the rant is still going to happen.
Thoughts on Pregnancy
Now that the first (heinous, miserable) three months of my pregnancy are over, I feel ready to move past the torture and actually blog about my experiences. For the past three months, I have done almost nothing except: 1) Sleep. All the time. As in, all day. From when I got home from work until I went to work the next day. 2) Vomit. Sorry. 3) Occassionally eat. Eating was rarer than my doctor would have liked, and usually only included tater tots, pickles, cheerios, and my fave, apples.
During this interesting time of my life, I did very little that I normally do, such as working out, maintaining friendships, and leaving the house. I. Felt. Like. Death. I knew when we were trying to get pregnant that I would feel nauseous. Duh. But I thought to myself, I'll be ok with being sick, because I'll know it's due to the wonderful little baby inside me! Whenever I'm sick, I'll just be grateful for my little one and for this miracle!
This was not the case.
What I was not prepared for was not the severity of the sickness- that I expected- but the overwhelming feeling of malaise and total exhaustion.
Don't get me wrong: I was, am, and will continue to be grateful for the little one inside of me. But let's just say that wasn't on my mind a whole lot between the sleeping and puking.
Most of my family and friends did not have this horrific experience. My best friend, who just gave birth, threw up one time. Luckily, two of my cousins had experiences similar to mine and assured me it went away after the first trimester.
I'll admit, while hopeful about this "first trimester" talk, I was not convinced. When you feel like you're going to die, it's hard to imagine that going away suddenly. I thought surely I would not be lucky enough for it to magically dissipate after three months.
Then.... one day in July.... I realized I hadn't been sick in four days. Then it turned into a week. Then two weeks! Now it's been almost three! Sweet relief, they weren't joking!! Your body must torture you to make you're serious about this decision, I guess! I'm back to the world of solid food! Being able to do activities after work besides sleeping! Working out! Talking to friends and meeting up for coffee (hot tea for me, coffee turns my stomach, those of you close to me know how wack that is)!
Now that I can look at the past and to the future with an unclouded (un-nauseated) mind, I can actually reflect on this experience with some clarity.
Do I care if it's a boy or girl? Nope, because soon it's going to be out of my body, which I am quite excited about. I want her (using the feminine here) out. I want her here where I can hold her and admire her cuteness, instead of inside dancing on my bladder. Sorry, I know it's magical and all that. Some people are really into it. I, on the other hand, want it out. I cannot believe she'll be in there until January. Unfathomable.
The baby's in utero nickname is Poppyseed. This is because when I first found out I was pregnant, we read that she was the size of a little poppyseed. The name stuck. Poppy for short. Hence the use of the feminine pronoun, since Poppy sounds feminine to me.
We are going to find out the gender of the baby this month in an ultrasound (if she'll show us-I know of some whose babies were too bashful to reveal their... parts). Why do people not want to find this out? "But I want to be surprised." Give me a freaking break. Tell me what the thing is so I know what's in there and can have an easier time buying clothes. Geesh. I'll be surprised at the ultrasound.
I have way more thoughts on this topic, but for right now I'm tired (shocker) and am going to go to bed. I do want to add one more thought, which is regarding my husband. Holy cow, he is the best. During my three months of moaning, whining, puking, crying, and shaking my fist in the air and screaming "why??", he has been incredibly patient and supportive. Running to the store to buy cheerios. Never pointing out how annoying and what lame company I am. Acting like I look good when in reality I look like a zombie with no makeup, sleep, or mirrors. Everyone should be given a partner like this, so that when they're at their worst, the partner can be at their best. Someone should be acting like a decent human being, after all. I was pretty lucky to find this one, that's for sure.
More to come, I'm sure there will be all kinds of additional things I feel like bitching about in the near future.
XOXO, A
& Poppy
