The first six or eight weeks of my pregnancy were filled with wonderment.
That is, I kept wondering whether the piss test was wrong. I'd heard all these stories about women who "just knew" and other women who started throwing up on day 1. For me, other than not getting my period, everything seemed completely normal for the first half of the first trimester. I thought, "This is gonna be a breeze."
Fool.
It wasn't until I made that first OB appointment that nausea, exhaustion, insomnia, and fear slipped into my bloodstream along side the hormones my uterus manufactured to help baby grow. The next eight weeks were pretty miserable. I spent most of them on the sofa, eating Saltines, drinking Topo Chico, and asking Kurt to get things for me (mostly Saltines and Topo Chico). In my car on extra long lunch breaks, napping, eating Saltines, and drinking Topo Chico. At work, trying really hard not to talk about how sick I felt. In bed praying that all this misery wouldn't be for naught. After all, 25% of pregnancies end in miscarriage in the first trimester.
Finally we emerged from the first trimester tunnel right around Christmas. Second trimester was a breeze. Fascinating. I remember thinking on a daily basis, "The most interesting thing about being pregnant is ... "
I hope you don't think I'm going to tell you about all the things I found interesting.I should've written them down at the time because, now that I'm fully entrenched in the third trimester, I remember none of them.
No, wait, here's one: It was fascinating that I didn't seem to mind watching my belly grow and my wearable wardrobe dwindle.
The third trimester has been marked by more growing of belly and more dwindling of ... well pretty much everything else. Almost everything that seemed important to me including energy, mobility, self-sufficiency, focus, intellectual capacity, and emotional reserves. Putting on my shoes is difficult. Picking up things that I drop is difficult and that's a real problem because I'm a clutz.
I've had about eight Come to Jesus meetings with myself lately. While the topics might range far and wide from career to chores to friendship to family, they all start the same way: "You cannot keep this up. You have to choose carefully what you're going to work at and what you're going to let slide."
Sometimes it feels like I'm going to
slide all the way down Pregnancy Mountain, but it also feels like that might be the only way I'll survive the trip.
PS: I tag
Ruth with the tag from below ... five things about you that other people might consider lame.
