A moment to bitch...

I'm trying really hard not to complain...but I'm failing miserably.  I am so blasted tired, I don't know what I'm going to do with myself.  I woke up tired this morning.  I want to lay my head down on my desk right now and nap until I feel better.  My mother told me to suck it up, and that literally trillions of women have done this before me.  I'm pretty sure every pregnant woman forgets what it's like to be pregnant immediately after their baby is born.  It's like running a marathon.  You don't remember how much it sucks while you're running it until you're doing it again.  But, then, when you're done running, you forget. 

I may have called the baby a hell beast today.  Sorry, little one, but you're killing me.  I'm also fairly certain it has something to do with my diet...believe it or not, in spite of my ever growing chest ornaments, I actually lost three pounds, which means I'm not eating enough or puking up what I do put down.  Also, since I'm now a vegetarian, I'm not getting the protein and iron from meat like I once was.  I am going to have to fix that. 

Regardless, I'm going home after my lunch meeting today and napping until it's time to go to some stupid reception.  I love my bed so much right now, I just want to be wrapped up in it.  Okay, enough whining...for now.  I'd say I'll be better, but I probably won't. 

Daddy's Birthday...

Last night, I bought tickets to a play to celebrate your daddy's birthday.  We went to grab a quick bite to eat before the play, and seeing as how I had a craving for shrimp, we went to a restaurant called Sea Change.  Much to my surprise, they did not have anything on the menu that had shrimp in it.  In fact, most of the menu was comprised of raw fish or chicken, neither of which I can eat right now.  So, I settled for a burger, with bacon ground into the meat.  I was not too excited about it. 

In any case, our food came, and I took one bite of the burger before sprinting to the bathroom.  It was too rich, the bacon flavor was too strong...in any case, we did not like it.  So, I sprinted for the bathroom, and accidentally entered the men's bathroom.  Which was evidenced by the gentleman washing his hands.  Unfortunately, vomiting waits for no one, and so I didn't have time to turn around, exit, and find the women's restroom, as bacon burger was making its way up my gullet.  So, I puked in the men's bathroom.  Thank you very much, let me stand up, and take a bow. 

The man I surprised became quite concerned as sounds of my retching reached him.  He knocked on the stall and asked if I was alright and if he could fetch someone for me.  I'm fairly certain he thought I was anorexic until I told him I was nine weeks pregnant and that I'd be fine in a minute. 

After I returned to the table, the bartender must have noticed my rather quick exit as he bought me a ginger ale and our waiter came over to make sure everything was alright.  We quickly finished our food and made our way upstairs to the play.  I promptly fell asleep during the first act.  It must not have been very good anyways, because your daddy suggested we bail on the play and hit up Dairy Queen. 

So, in sum, all the romantic plans I had made for your daddy's birthday may have backfired on me.  I wanted it to be special, since it will be the last birthday as the two of us.  I suppose you were there as well, little one, but I imagine when he turns 33, we'll be much more focused on what you're up to. 

Holy crap, it's a baby...

Today is a big day, little one.  Your daddy turns 32 today, and we had our first "real" appointment with Colonel Sanders' office.  It was amazing.  I couldn't believe it.  You look like a baby...I know that sounds weird, but when you look at the pictures that were taken on Tuesday, compared with the ones we got of you today, it's amazing.  I can't believe how much you've changed in just a few days...

So, there you are.  You look like a baby...I just can't get over it.  Your heartbeat is very strong, and it's at 150 bpm, which is on the faster end.  I'm measuring at exactly nine weeks, which means you're due to make your appearance around Thanksgiving.  I'm also going to come out and say it (although I've said it before), I'm absolutely convinced that you're a girl.  But, we won't know until our ultrasound in July.  Which seems like so far away...

In any case, here's our latest and greatest picture together...notice that while my belly isn't really growing, my chest seems to have tripled in size since last week.  Colonel Sanders says that they're going to continue growing for another nine weeks...I don't know if I'm going to be able to stand upright at that point.  

So now, we just sit around and take care of ourselves.  They still haven't figured out the whole gallbladder issue just yet and they're not quite sure what's going on.  So, I have to take it easy, but at least I don't have to have a non-vital organ removed.  And let's be really honest anyways...it's not like I've got energy in spades these days.  So, I'm fine with resting and relaxing for a while.    

Attack of the Killer Gallbladder

I got home from work last night and wasn't feeling so great.  I got in to my pajamas and settled down for the night around 5:30.  My stomach kept hurting, and I got sick after I ate dinner.  I thought it was just round ligament pain or that I had pulled a muscle when I was working out.  Still, it wasn't any better when I woke up this morning and I was worried that something was wrong with you, little one.  So, I called Colonel Sanders and went in for an appointment this morning. 

So, I've had a gallbladder attack.  Apparently, its a very common thing to happen to pregnant women because of all the added hormones in your body causing organs to function differently.  The good news is that you're just fine and healthy.  I've attached your most recent picture.  You're definitely growing!

In any case, I've got to take it easy for the next few days.  We go back to the doctor on Thursday for a check-up and to determine if I've gotten any better.  If not, I might have to have my gallbladder taken out.  Yikes!  Still, you're fine, healthy, and have a strong heartbeat, which is great news.  And all I really care about.  Even if I have to stay in bed for the next seven months, I really don't care.  Television on DVD may be one of the greatest inventions of the twenty-first century.  So, I've got Buffy the Vampire Slayer to keep me company for now.   

So, I'll write more later.  But, I really just wanted to post your latest picture.  Colonel Sanders says you're going to be quite the beautiful baby.  He also says you're a boy (but I really think you're a girl)...point being, we don't know either way just yet. 

Eight Weeks (and one day)

Well, little one...we've had a rough week, haven't we?  I've had three full trials in five days, and I've had to work quite a bit.  So, in addition to the stress, I've also been dealing with pregnancy symptoms...which include projectile vomiting out the car door (yes, this just happened yesterday), coming home at 5:00, getting into my pajamas and promptly going to bed for the night, and eating only popcorn and pasta.  Apparently, I'm now a vegetarian, however exceptions are made for hamburgers and hot dogs, for some reason. 

I'm grateful, I really am.  It means you're healthy, growing, and making your mother miserable.  You're the size of a martini olive now.  Which is weird, because today at lunch and I saw olives and really wanted to eat one, which disturbed me.  In part because I normally hate olives, and well, because you're the size of an olive and that creeped me out. 

Eating is the worst right now.  I have to really think about what I want to eat before I eat it.  Then, I have to hurry up and eat whatever it is I'm eating because I will get sick or nauseated about half way through any meal I'm eating.  Okay, enough about me.  Here we are at eight weeks (and one day)...you're starting to make me look like I have a little gut, little one...

Seven Weeks (and one day)

Alright, little one.  You and I need to have some words.  I would really appreciate it if you'd stop making me puke all day, every day.  It makes keeping you a secret very difficult.  I had trial this morning, and had to bolt for the bathroom immediately after opening statements.  When I got back, the judge asked if I wanted a continuance, assuming I had the flu.  When I told him I had a touch of morning sickness, he because extremely accommodating and gave me wide latitude in the courtroom.  He even overruled a few objections he should have sustained.  After closing arguments, he told me that he'd been on the bench for almost thirty years, and this was a "first" for him.  I don't know if that was a good thing, but he seemed to find it amusing. 

So here's our picture together at seven weeks (and one day).  I think I'm starting to get a gut, but it may be from the amount of food I'm consuming.  If you can't tell from this picture, I've also started carrying cantaloupes (weighing about as much as a bowling ball) higher up on my chest. 

All these things are temporary.  The back pain, the monster boobs, the puking...all are temporary symptoms and surefire signs that you're hanging on.  we have our next ultrasound on April 21st, which is your daddy's birthday.  I can't wait to see how much you've changed.  Until then, could you ease up just a little?

Just because...

I forgot to write about this last week.  If you didn't realize, your first doctor's visit was on April Fool's Day.  I find it very appropriate to play practical jokes on this day.  Your daddy didn't come with me to the doctor last week, mostly because I think the whole process kind of freaked him out.  In any case, before my appointment, he and I were talking about the possibility of having twins (since you were conceived with a little extra boost) and I told him that women who take Clomid have a one in four chance of having twins.  Which is obviously not true...but women tend to think ahead and I had been setting him up for this joke for about a week. 

After your appointment, I called him and told him that I was completely freaking out because we were having twins!  Your daddy got very nervous and panicked and informed me he was moving to Canada.  April Fools!  I totally tricked him, which very rarely happens. 

I told Colonel Sanders about my April Fools joke and he thought it was really good as well.  So good, in fact, that he wanted to call your daddy himself and tell him we were having triplets!  We all had a very good laugh at your daddy's expense.  You're only seven weeks old and already providing hours of entertainment. 

In any case, you're starting to be a little rough on me.  I've got this crazy aversion to chicken, pork, and beef.  I don't want to even look at it.  I took chicken breasts out of the freezer this morning to make your daddy's dinner and I almost yaked right in the kitchen sink.  Thankfully, your Grammy Kopperud made some bean soup, which we, apparently, think is very delicious. 

The other thing that's starting to get to me is that people keep commenting on my appearance.  Last week, I walked into the lunchroom and someone said, "Gee, you really don't look like you feel well" and yesterday, someone came into my office and asked if I needed a nap.  This morning, Grammy Kopperud called and apparently it sounded like I was going to puke on the phone.  I wish I could tell everyone it's because I'm pregnant, but you're going to have to stay my little secret for a while longer.  But, in addition to the fact that I feel miserable, I apparently look it as well.  It's all worth it, but where's this fantastic "glowing" phenomenon I've heard so much about?  The only thing that's "glowing" about me is the greenish tinge to my skin.  When this is coupled with the fact that the button on my pants is starting to leave an impression on my belly, this all adds up to one unattractive-feeling mama.  Oh well.  Maybe I'll glow next month. 

Six Weeks (and one day)

So, little one, you had your first picture taken today.  My guess is that you have no idea what's going on, but Colonel Sanders is taking really good care of you.  And so far, so good!  You haven't been too rough on me yet, but we've still got a ways to go.  So, there you are below, weighing in at less than an ounce and about a quarter-inch in length. 

I also got to see and hear your heartbeat as well.  You're looking good so far.  I'm starting to think that you really might make your home here for good. 

And finally, I've attached our first picture together. 

Don't be surprised if you can't see anything because there's nothing there to see.  The only way you'd know I was pregnant at this point is if you knew how much caffeine I haven't been consuming.  Or if I attempted to rip your head off because you looked at me sideways.  Yes, I've been a little...uh...moody.   

So, we go back to see a new doctor in three weeks.  They are going to do some more tests, take another look around, and let me know if I should still be in the high risk category.  So, you've done your job so far, I've done mine.  Let's keep up the good work, shall we?