journey of life

Whenever we go visit my grandparents, we never leave empty handed.  Usually, on the last day of our visit, my grandmother runs around the house, packing up various items and food for us to take home.  Inevitably, I leave something behind.  Food in the refrigerator, a present, something.  For months now, she’s been trying to send me home with one of the following…and for several visits I keep forgetting to bring it home, despite making lists and placing it right at the top of the stairs where I would have to walk on my way out of the house.   So, what is “it”?

a. a rare family heirloom
b. a plant
c. a framed print
d. jewelry

Yes, it is way too early to even think about decorating a nursery, but I adore these wall stickers for a child’s bedroom. All of them.

One : Extra-strength (500 mg) Tylenol taken to alleviate neck pain. Multiple thoughts of how much better I would feel if I could actually take Advil, muscle relaxers and/or consecutive shots of tequila.

Two : Neck massages by my adoring husband (while I had my multiple thoughts, see above).

Four : Afternoon naps I have taken this week.

Five days : Until my next doctor’s appointment. I’m nervous, excited and anxious.

Fourteen days : Until I’m 12 weeks and out of the first trimester.

Two-hundred ten days : Until I reach 40 weeks. If I make it that far. That’s longer than an average public school year, people. Seventeen days longer.

Infinity : How long I have to wait before I can drink tequila again.

I felt this was appropriate for Valentine’s Day. I actually was fortunate to have my husband working from home most of the day and we made a trip to the chiropractor together, enjoyed lunch at the Thai restaurant right down the street, dinner at a local burger joint and a trip to pick up a new television for the downstairs. Not all that romantic for possibly our last Valentine’s Day without rugrats, but under the circumstances, all in all I thought it was marvelous. And, what better way to end Valentine’s Day than to sleep?

Photo credit : Magnet from AllPosters.com

Contrary to popular belief, not all women suffer from the grave morning sickness. Some of us just had to be different, damn it. So, if you are one of those women who think you are freaky because you aren’t barfing breakfast on the freeway, we’ve instantly bonded.

My symptoms are abnormal. Well, aside from the fact that my breasts have been sore as all get out, I now have narcolepsy, my nose is a dripping faucet, and an increased urge to pee, they are. First of all, I don’t have regular morning sickness. Instead, my morning routine goes something like this: I open my eyes, look at the clock and assess how I am feeling. Most mornings I wake up fine, but then all of a sudden my stomach begins to gurgle and just like that, I have the pregnancy flu, complete with chills, nausea and diarrhea. Not knowing what is going to happen next, I jump up and try my best to get to the bathroom. Once there, I use the bathroom and am completely fine. But for that short period of time, I seriously think I have the flu. That’s my morning sickness. The pregnancy flu. Occasionally it hits me later in the day, often after eating a meal, but for the most part, occurs in the morning.

On several occasions, smells have bothered me, beginning mainly in my sixth week of pregnancy. I couldn’t begin to even think about preparing food. Whenever a wave of nausea comes over me, I usually grab a Coca-cola and a Preggie Pop Drop (thanks to my girlfriend, Christy!) to get me through. My diet up until now has been rather dull, however I have been able to eat good nutritious dinners most nights and of course I am taking my prenatal vitamins.

Favorite foods, or rather survival foods:
Honey Nut Cheerios
Cinnamon Toast Crunch
cheddar cheese and Saltines
Coca-cola
pita bread and hummus
pears
bagels with cream cheese and orange juice
pizza
peanut butter and jelly

My family is full of funny characters.  Inevitably, when we go to visit, somebody says something so hilarous that we get so tickled that we can barely breathe or hold our bladders.  Because I have some family members that are well-respected in the community (and some even hold political office) I am refraining from naming names.  Which of the following was said this weekend:

a.  You haven’t lived as an adult until you’ve shit your britches.
b.  He’s so confused he doesn’t know whether to scratch his watch or wind his ass.
c.  You aren’t going to catch me voting for that son-of-a-bitch.
d.  Lawdy mercy.  What kind of a harebrained idea was that?

This weekend I told my grandparents I was pregnant. My grandmother (who says she is a witch and some days I seriously believe her) claims she already knew I was pregnant. Last week she had a dream about a little baby and told both my mom and my aunt she thought I was pregnant. Yes, my family has some scary ESP.

Telling them was hard. Especially since I am only nine weeks along. But, because I didn’t know the next time I would see them, I bit the bullet and chose to spread the word which meant I also had to tell my aunt and uncle, cousin, her husband, my brother and his girlfriend. In other words, half the county. What it came down to is whether or not I wanted to tell my family the news in person, or for them to hear second-hand from each other. I just have to hope that next week there isn’t an announcement in the local newspaper’s gossip section.

Just three more weeks and I will be over the first trimester hump.

I’ve been rather nervous this week, wondering if I am still in fact pregnant. However, I am trying not to worry or obsess about it. Because, what good would that do anybody? Nothing. This week I started to really let the idea of pregnancy sink in. I’ve been thinking about how to rearrange the house to make room for baby, wondering how different my life will be once we have a child and also searching for creative baby shower ideas. I know that should be left up to friends, but I have a fantastic idea in mind, but I just have to mull it over and sort it out. I’ve also begun to search out area consignment stores and want to make thrift store trips for some pregnancy clothing. Maybe, someday, this will for certain feel real.

I have resorted to the glorious invention of the Internet to make friends. Now, as bizarre as this may seem, it’s really not that crazy. I’m actually trying to find other new moms that live near me…and I found a yahoo group that will help me along with the process. After meeting women this morning, and corresponding with a new mom via email, I really think this is a good thing and a great avenue towards meeting new moms in the area. It’s like match.com for new moms.

Today is the two-week mark for me. Two weeks since we saw the baby’s heartbeat and two weeks until I return back to the doctor’s office. I’m halfway through. And, during this time I’ve diagnosed myself as seriously neurotic.

I can’t stop worrying. Is the baby still growing? Is everything still going okay? My symptoms aren’t as bad as they were a few weeks ago, is that a symptom of something gone wrong? Should I go get an ultrasound today, just to be sure?

Yes, I am now officially a crazed pregnant lady, for better or for worse. My husband had no idea what he got himself into.

Two weeks ago, or fourteen days, or 336 hours, to be exact, I saw the baby’s heartbeat. And, of those 336 hours, I have been worried all but one hour whether the baby is doing okay. But, I am optimistic. I’ve only got 14 days, or 336 hours until I go back for my next checkup, and if I hold out that long I’m going to give myself some sort of award.