Still Waiting....

I feel like I have taken many of pregnancy's punches like a champ. To be fair, it hasn't been that bad but there has been the constant undertone of nausea, the super-sonic sense of smell, and the disdain for any "normal" foods. I have gladly accepted all of this because pregnancy has promised me some bright spots. Pregnancy is supposed to give you that rosy glow, luscious locks, long and beautiful nails, and the adorable little round belly.
Well ....my belly is round all right but it is hardly that cute little shape that just shouts, "I'm pregnant, rub me." Nope, instead I have what I always knew would be my lot which is that I am just getting ROUND, there is no shape, no pregnancy paunch, just an ever-expanding waist-line. Kevin keeps wanting me to take the obligatory monthly belly shots and I am tempted to cram myself into a mold ahead of time (or better yet, borrow the fake belly from the maternity store) just to have something documented but alas, it's pretty much looks the same as it does after a big night out at the buffet. This rounding is no doubt exacerbated by the fact that my parents bestowed upon me there infamous lean legs (they do have nice legs) and so I look like someone shoved an apple on top of two toothpicks.
If that is not enough, don't even get me started on the hair. Although first a side-note: I have been poring through the pregnancy books and have to admit that most of them leave me shocked, depressed, or frightened (or all three) but the one I have found to be the most palatable is the "Girlfriend's Guide." I was enjoying this book right up to the point where the author puts out a huge disclaimer on cutting your hair short anywhere near the time of pregnancy. She is adamant that this is a huge mistake that will surely be a major regret. Well.... too late for me given that I had a bad mishap at a Great Cuts (don't ask) just a few weeks before becoming pregnant. So back to the unfulfilled pregnancy promises; rather than cry myself to sleep about my supposedly awful mistake (the worse part is that the picture in the back of the Girlfriend's Guide" is of the author and her 4 kids sporting a super-short as in boy-short haircut!!) I comforted myself with the notion that I would soon be growing hair faster and longer than Rapunzel and would have such sheen and shine that it would distract from my apple physique and any other flaw.
Alas.... my hair doesn't seem to be growing much at all and instead of luscious I have actually spotted my first grey hair!! (it's all the worrying caused by the pregnancy books). And how about the nails, every morning I inspect mine and even in a generous moment, I cannot say they look like anything other than the short, ratty, stubs that I have been sporting since high-school (only now, I don't have the excuse of "Um, I purposefully keep them this way for basketball").
So... I am a bit down but am certainly not out. I have many more months ahead and I will continue to inspect myself for pregnancy perks, I will also try to coax my belly into submission, but most of all, I will continue to count my blessings and be honored that I get to partake in this journey in the first place.

It's a ..... Gummi Bear!!

So ultrasound number two occurred a few weeks back and beyond confirming once again that yes, this is indeed happening, it was nice to see that our baby has grown from a piece of fuzz into a gummi bear. I will add the picture in if I can get it to scan but our little one has a Ginormous gummi head with two little gummi stub arms and gummi stub legs. The size of the head is really a little bit frightening at this point but the baby books have assured us that things will even out at some point down the line (although Kevin does have to have hats specially made... just saying...). Anyway, the whole experience thus far has been a huge lesson in vulnerability. I always expected that having a little one would teach me that it's not all about me or what kind of crazy unrealistic pace I can tackle life with. However, being hit with that fact like a ton of bricks requires a little bit of absorbing and getting used to. I am the first to admit that I probably needed something like this to ground me and between Gummi and his father, they are doing a great job. It's hard to put up a fight against two beings that I love more than anything and thus, I am TRYING to learn what it means to take it easy. I am not saying I like it and quite frankly, I feel at a little bit of loss (as in, if I am not the girl that runs around a mile a minute and tries to accomplish everything than who the heck am I) but I hope I will find peace in the fact that I am someone's partner (with the HUGE privilege of carrying his child) and soon to be someone's Mommy. Everything else (in the famous words of Kathy Griffin) will just have to suck it.

Every 90 Minutes

There are a few things in my life that I have been able to set my clock by; the fact that the animals in the house will wake up at 6am on the dot and start whining for me whether I am ready to get up or not, the fact that every few weeks or so, we don't actually remember to take the garbage out to the curb UNTIL we hear the garbage truck right outside our house. But, never have I been able to count on something so consistently than the fact that since Baby H started operation body take-over, I am hungry every 90 minutes! We are not talking some mild amount of hunger here either. Oh no, when the clock hits that hour and a 1/2 mark, I feel a pang like nothing I have ever experienced before. It is deep, it grumbles, it says, I could quite literally eat a horse right now and still ask what's for dessert? Don't get me wrong, I have always been what I like to call an "eater" there is rarely a time when I am not planning my next meal under the guise of pretending to pay attention in a meeting but this.... this is scary. Case in point, the other evening Kevin made a wonderful meal of pasta and Salmon. I literally inhaled said meal and even scraped out the pot effectively eliminating what was supposed to be our lunches the next day. Then, exactly 90 minutes later, I let out a loud and uncontrollable "Uh-Oh" (note: when you have a doting and worrying partner in the room, "uh-oh" isn't the most fitting or kind word to yell out). Kevin runs to me and I shyly announce, "I am hungry... AGAIN." The last thing I will say about this unquenchable hunger experience is that while the hunger is literally painful, nothing actually sounds good to eat. Sure, I have always been on the picky side and am not known to put out any effort for broccoli or any other green thing disguised as food but this is different. This is where my all time favorite foods don't sound appetizing whatsoever and where I am having to quell my hungry with strange things that will actually make it to my mouth without my super sonic sense of small making me gag. Things like wheat chex, pineapple, and only certain flavors of yogurt and oatmeal. What on earth is wrong with me?? Oh yeah, I'm pregnant.

Tales From the Belly

First of all, it's a FAKE belly people!!! But, I have to tell you, putting this little bit of genius around my midsection when trying on materity clothes was quite a wake-up call and put much of the last 8 weeks into perspective. Clearly, I must cease the constant moaning about weight gain because this is just the beginning and if tying my shoes has become a noticeable chore now, just wait till I can't see my feet at all! In all reality, I cannot complain much about the last 2 months, but here I go anyway:

While I am thoroughly convinced that no one doesn't know they are pregnant (and those tv shows are just a hoax), I do feel lucky that my naseau is easily manageable with a cracker or two, my inability to stay awake has not yet affected work or school, and my aversion to smells (all smells, good or bad) is alleviated by a nice morning or evening walk. Yes, I have had to succumb to the inability to button my pants but I'm also realizing that I may have been squeezing myself into a size too small to begin with and am embracing that cutting off the circulation at my midsection does not really make any fashion sense. So, thank goodness for maternity clothes and specifically the stretchy lycra piece of heaven that comes on the top of most pregancy pants. Where has this majestic bit of material been all of my life? I cannot promise that I won't be wearing these sorts of pants long into my future, with all apologies to Kevin.

Beyond that, I am just getting used to the new vulnerability that comes with being pregant, the fact that I have had more doctor's visits in the last few weeks than the last few years, that I no longer feel invincible when walking up or hill or even the stairs, and that sleeping on my stomach was a luxury that I may not see again for a long time. All in all though, things are wondeful and I am looking forward to the magical 2nd trimester that has been promised by all those that have gone before.