If you haven't already heard the news, we are expecting baby part deux (the final act) early November! Just another month until we find out the gender (think girly thoughts for me), but in the meantime everything has been going well. It seemed every day dragged by with Emerson and we couldn't wait until he was born. This time we know what to expect, so 9 months seems to by flying by WAY too fast!!
I'm about 14.5 weeks right now, but I' m posting a blog from the first trimester. Warning - if you are very squeamish, you might want to skip this!
Like any good parent, my mom provided us with birth control by telling stories about how she spent most of her pregnancies (except with me – I was the good kid) hurling her guts out in unusual places. One story I remember well was when she threw up in a drinking fountain. This gave me the distinct impression that morning sickness, or all day sickness in her case, made you spontaneously throw up with little warning.
So when I got pregnant the first two times, I waited for the onslaught to set in any minute….but it never did. I got a little nauseous and extremely bitchy if I didn’t eat pronto (imagine the girl in the Exorcist), but never so much as a dry heave. I figured I must be one of those lucky women who just don’t get sick during pregnancy.
Or so I thought. This pregnancy has been very different from the beginning. I’m more exhausted than before, achier, I’m expanding at twice the speed, and I’m definitely more nauseous. I’ve only thrown up once, but I wish I could more - just to get temporary relief.
The worse thing for me about being this nauseous is that I become fixated on throwing up. All I can think about are synonyms for throwing up (of which there are many) or I conjure up images and feelings from past experiences. It’s as if I’m trying to push myself over the edge. I remember being sick with the stomach flu once and just lying in bed reenacting over and over the scene from “
My mom has been trying to console me by saying it must be a girl because girls make you sicker. Robbie is trying to freak me out by saying it must be twins (not that twins are bad for patient moms like my friend Bethany, but they would be a bad idea for me!). And I am just trying to focus on the second trimester when it will hopefully come to an end.
In the meantime, I’m off to eat something that won’t make me gag – like the ice cream and jar of olives Robbie just bought me. Good man.