Friday, March 26, 2010

I am not a morning person

So, I had a minor moment of panic this morning when I dropped by mascara brush, leaving a trail of black brush strokes down my body to my filthy bathroom floor.

But it was nothing compared to the panicked feeling as I was rinsing the brush in the sink and suddenly realized I had succeeded in coating my hands and nails with WATERPROOF mascara.


Thursday, March 25, 2010

I know you're in there

This week, we finally got to hear the heartbeat (144). Not quite as awe-inspiring as I thought it might be, but still pretty cool. Mostly just reassuring to know everything's still going according to plan.

Also, for the past few days, I've been feeling what I'm 95% sure is the baby's movement. Mostly when I'm sitting down. At first it was just like a quick tap-tap-tap inside, or a brief muscle spasm. But this week, it's become more regular at certain times of the day, like after meals. It's surreal, and sometimes slightly annoying. Like something's bubbling in my belly. Yep, there's a baby brewing.

Friday, March 19, 2010

Breaking the big news to the boss

So, this was the part of getting pregnant I dreaded the most. You would think I should have been afraid of morning sickness, the actual act of getting this thing out, sleepless nights, explosive diarrhea, the terrible twos, the teenage years ... No, my only fear while TTC - besides failure - was having to tell my boss we succeeded.

Last Monday was the Big Day. I armed myself with a two-page document outlining who, how and what could be covered by other staffers while I was out. I was prepared for a barrage of questions, tears of disappointment (or congratulation), a major freakout ... And it went something like this:

Me: "I have some news. I'm pregnant. But don't worry, here's my plan for how everything will be taken care of while I'm gone for 12 weeks this fall."

Boss: ...

Office manager: "Congratulations!"

Me: "Thanks!"

Boss: ...

Yeah. That was pretty much it, as far as I can remember. Can you say anticlimactic?

Later, I found out she was totally shocked. She really had no idea (though for weeks leading up to the announcement I was just sure she knew ... I mean, I spent a week and a half traveling with her, you'd think a person would notice I wasn't acting normal).

So, now that that's over, I'm free to obsess over how the hell I'm supposed to get this thing out and survive the sleepless nights, explosive diarrhea, terrible twos and, god help us both, teenage years.

Damn if this isn't one doodle that can't be undid.

Thursday, March 18, 2010

And the veil lifts

Yesterday afternoon, just as the sun was beginning to show its face, I suddenly realized I no longer felt like I wanted to die. Yeah, I'm still hurling morning and night. But at least I don't want to die.

That's how bad it's been these past several weeks. Day after day, night after night, praying to the porcelain god for relief. I found much sympathy from friends who have suffered through "morning" sickness, yet wondered: How come nobody talks about this before you get pregnant?

Maybe they're right, I'll forget how miserable I've been once this is over. But I have the memory of an elephant, and I've already told the boy I'm done. This is it. Sorry, but I can't do this again.

Now that the veil of death is beginning to lift, and since we broke the news publicly last week, it's beginning to feel more real. "I'm pregnant." Two words I never thought I'd put together, and yet every time I repeat it to someone new, it starts to feel more real. Oh yeah, and I'm busting out of my clothes. No denying or hiding that.

Guess it's time to go shopping.

Wednesday, March 3, 2010

Sorry, baby

This morning I was pushing my stomach in, trying to envision it flat again. The boy rolled over in bed and said, "Hey. Be careful! There's a baby in there."

"The baby's not up here, it's down there," I said.

"But maybe when you push up there, it makes other stuff push down there."

"Well maybe the baby's pushing me, so I'm going to push it back."

"But it's little, and you're big, and you need to be nice to it."

God, he's going to be a great dad.

Tuesday, March 2, 2010


Dear Fetus,

Last week, we got to see you again. Wiggling little arms and legs. Your heart still fluttering. It's funny how distinctly human you looked on that screen -- despite your huge head. But in the pictures we took home, unfortunately, I'm afraid you just look like a blob.

The doctor said you're measuring a week ahead. If only that meant your hostess could stop throwing up a week early. I'm tired of it already. I hope you're worth it.