I've been wanting to document my experiences since awhile back, but I just wasn't up to it. I wasn't up to doing much of anything. In order to explain this, I'll have to start from the beginning. I suggest you get some wine and your Snuggie. This is going to be a very long post.
So, I've always had this fear that I could not have children. I think it's a common fear among women. But I was convinced (probably due to some self-defense mechanism) that I was barren and could never provide my husband with offspring. At least not with my DNA. But even with this fear intact, I did hope. It was just a fear after all, completely unsupported with any actual evidence. So, in saying this, I thought that if I ever did get pregnant, I would be able to plan some elaborate, memorable way of revealing this great news to my husband.
Well, I don't know what happened to those plans, because even without taking a pregnancy test, I told my him I was pregnant. It was only a hunch but sometimes, you just know. I even woke him up! It was Friday, so it's okay. He was much calmer than I was. And God bless him for not telling me that I was crazy or overreacting. I think the hunchmonster bit him, too. So, before getting too excited, we decided to wait exactly one week before taking a home pregnancy test. If my period is one week late, drug store, here I come!!!
Obviously, we knew before the week was up. I'm as regular as Swiss clockwork. One week later, that Friday night, we were pregnant! Shocked and pregnant. May I say that we are still shocked and pregnant. Shocked because we didn't plan for this at all. In fact, P and I even had a discussion about starting a family and how we were ready. Little did I know, we had already started!! Maybe this baby is psychic.
Fast forward a week. I was happy, excited, nervous...all that good stuff. I'm thinking to myself how this is going to be so much fun and how I will wait until the first trimester is in the clear to tell everyone. Well, this was only true if I didn't see you...ever. The heartburn hit me like a ton of bricks. It was so bad and painful, I was convinced I had never experienced heartburn before and that all those other times were just my imagination. Ouch! and gross! are the words I use to describe what it felt like. And to make matters worse, I was at work when this happened. Tums did nothing. It was like throwing my pen cap at an oncoming train. Along with the heartburn was this desperate urge to go pee. Which is fine if it weren't every 30 minutes!! I must've looked ridiculous, hopping around like that. I kept wondering if you could see Depends through scrubs and are they expensive. But what hit me the hardest was the fatigue. Oh my Lord! was I tired. After every patient, I needed to sit down and put my legs up. Is it going to be like this for the entire 9 months?!
Four days of this went by. Naturally, I was already complaining. My body was fighting a war and losing. Fast. But even then, I was happy because I wasn't sick. Well, I spoke too soon. Wednesday night, after work, I threw up. Ah! the joys of regurgitation. I thought...at least I'll have abs of steel from all the heaving. Boy, did I heave. It would go something like this....
Oh, I feel sick.
I think I'm going to throw up.
(2 hours pass)
I think I'm going to throw up.
I think I'm going to throw up.
(30 more minutes)
Seriously, I'm going to.
Move out the way!
Why isn't anything coming out?
Stop it already.
Ow, did I just hit my head on the toilet?!
This is how it usually went. I felt so sick that I couldn't eat anything. Therefore, there wasn't much to throw up. It was a combination of dry heaving and mucus. Sometimes, a pool of stomach acid would find its way up. One word...ouch. And I actually did get a bruise from constantly hitting my head on the toilet. That's how strong the gagging was. After a while, I realized, vomiting isn't the enemy. Nausea is. It comes in waves. Really strong, heat-filled waves. Each time, I could feel the all the muscles in my neck and back, preparing for the inevitable vomitfest, kind of like when you're body prepares for you to lift weights. As I'm sure you've read, "morning" sickness is a misnomer. You're sick...all freakin day. In fact, I feel worse as the day goes on.
Oh, but that's not all, folks. Did I mention I salivate like a geyser when I'm conscious? Yeah. Unless I'm in lalaland, I have to spit into a Dixie cup every few minutes. Disgusting doesn't even cut it. It's not your normal saliva. That would just be too easy. My saliva is this bubbly, sap-like mess that keeps its form even after 10 minutes! Who knows, maybe even longer than that. By then, I'm on to filling a new cup.
What else. Food aversion. Food and smell aversion. If it weren't for this, I probably wouldn't have told my parents that I was pregnant until much later. But seeing as how we live with them, there was no way around it. I couldn't have my mom cooking anymore. It would be...I don't even want to think about it. So for the last 2 months, there has been absolutely no cooking in our kitchen. My poor folks and my husband have been eating...in the garage. I know. It's sad, but also funny, right? Right there, in the middle of 30 years of junk and clutter, they eat, one by one, staring at boxes on shelves. Meanwhile, I get to lay comfortably on the couch, in a warm house, with TV. Oh wait, did I say comfortable? I haven't been comfortable since January!!!!
Anyway, yeah...everything smells gross. Most things taste gross. But what I wasn't prepared for was how strange the texture of food has become. For instance, biting into an apple was like biting into a cookie. There was no juicy crunch. Just a crumbly mess. I can't even taste sugar anymore. How cruel is that! I can barely taste salt. Instead, I can taste minerals and yeast and all the disgusting preservatives that are usually so well-hidden. It's awful. My own tongue has betrayed me.
Anyone who has ever been really constipated knows how awful it is. So I won't go into too much detail. You're welcome. I just want to say that they should invent something you can attach to the toilet so that your legs don't get numb. Because by the time you are ready to get up from what feels like hours, your legs don't work and you end up looking like a newborn giraffe.
I'll also spare the details about headaches, skin dryness, dizziness, bloating, etc. Let's face it. In comparison to the above, these aren't that bad.
With each week that goes by, a little bit of my old self gets restored. All of the above is slowly becoming a distant memory. NOT!!! Are you kidding me? I only wish someone could do that spell from Harry Potter where you forget what you just saw. That would be most welcomed. But seeing as how none of you are wizards, I'll just have to wait for baby to arrive and hope that immense joy I'll be feelng will miraculously make this first trimester a distant memory. So, hustle baby! Mommy and daddy can't wait to see you!