Hello dear friends. Amazingly, I've managed to keep up with my iPhone pregnancy journal. I know. Incredible right? So, picking up where I last left off...
[Telling the fam…]
Whoa THAT was a lot to take in. Glad everyone is excited but holy, overwhelming is an understatement.
What do you mean the baby might not be ok? Oh. So that's the panic and fear everyone is talking about that will last for the next 50 years. I was not AT ALL prepared for that. The only thing keeping me sane right now? Tuxedo Cat is in a bag.
Much more emotionally stable today. For now anyway.
I'm gonna be the dancin mom. All 90s all the time. I'm gonna learn all the backstreet boys dance moves. Mmmm Bop baby.
Dr appointment today. I love my doctor. I trust no one else. Everyone's a HACK. [And yes the baby was ok. This is a reference to the fact that emergency room doctors are apparently not at all qualified to deal with such an array of medical concerns. My own doctor is never allowed to leave me.]
My doctor got me thinking about a midwife. Never considered it before. Don't know why. I guess I thought a 19 year old hippie named Willow wearing a hemp skirt would come to my house and whisper at me while I pushed a human out of my vagina “naturally” in a plastic kiddie pool. Turns out? Not exactly.
Hubby just came home from work with the RANKEST odor. And proceeded to blame MY heightened sense of smell... uh, no. Do something about that. Immediately.
Wow. So, going to sleep at 7:30 every night is a real thing, eh.
I can't decide if dinner in bed is good for the soul or a very bad sign.
Hey pants. You're too small. Fuck off.
Hubby was reading about baby proofing. "You're supposed to go around on your knees to see stuff from the baby's perspective. Luckily, Honey, I guess you won't have to do that." Nice. Throw a short joke at the grumpy pregnant lady.
THERE ARE WINE SAMPLES IN THIS GROCERY STORE. FUCK YOU, WORLD.
Yay Hubby building the crib! I helped. Mostly by sitting in the rocking chair. But when asked to hold up one side, I totally did it. I held that sucker up for at least 10 minutes. ("held" = put my hand on it until I realized my hand was no longer needed because it was all done anyway)
I was TOTALLY just advised by my doctor that my extra 300 calories per day can be junk food if good food is unappetizing. Even better, Hubby needs to back off giving me a hard time about it. Bring on the Crispers.
So sleeping on my stomach is uncomfortable, and sleeping on my back will apparently result in the apocalypse. So, sides only? MY HIPS HURT.
I've had the most bizarre change of heart in the last couple of days. No more baby. Ha just kidding. I actually just think a boy would be good. Girls are assholes. I vote boy.
First day with elastic pants. I've put it off as long as humanly possible. One benefit: peeing is way easier when all you do is slide down your waistband.
Ultrasound day. Sitting in the waiting room. No, Hubby, I don't have any games in my purse. And to the lady filing her nails: STOP IT.
What do you MEAN it's a girl? What does that mean?
Remember when I wanted to be kicked? So masochistic. Now? Stop kicking me you little brat! Ok don't, But still.
Worst. Sleeping. Ever. Ouch my back. Ouch my hips. OUCH.
I'm beginning to think this baby is like Hubby. Can't sit still! My whole insides are flailing. Either that or she's like me - a total asshole.
My new nemesis? Indigestion. Which is particularly terrible for someone who physically does not know HOW to burp. (Swallow my air, I know I know. DOESN'T WORK YOU GUYS.)
We bought a stroller yesterday! And now I wish I had a baby to put into it. So far, all I have is a Tuxedo Cat. But he likes riding around, that's for sure.
My mood today equates to this:
Bought our bassinet! And the cats love that too it.
Pregnant women resemble toddlers? Um, yes.
Whatever you do, do NOT google "placenta images"
Ok. Who gave this little thing a bongo to play inside my uterus? She could also probably stop jumping trampoline on my cervix.