week 10: OH COME ON

Looks like my body doesn't give a shit about that whole "the ninth week is the worst week" thing. The only time I don't battle nausea is from wake-up to mid-morning. The rest of the day is a battle. I have no appetite, but yet if I don't eat I feel even sicker.

I've also realized that being pregnant is terribly isolating. I feel alone. I feel like no one could understand what it's like to feel so emotionally ragged, to experience such discordance with my normal apetite, to be constipated, tired at unfortunate times and then toss and turn all night...fuck. I could go on and on.

I get unsolicited advice from those who have no business advising. Reading about pregnancy and all the birth planning is overwhelming and it sort of makes me sick to read about it. I honestly think that I could go the rest of this pregnancy without knowing anything else. I've seen A Baby Story a million times. Isn't that enough?

Micah has it in his head that we don't need the cats anymore because they are filthy. I remind him that they've been in my life longer than he has. That doesn't seem to get me anywhere. He's had pets before and he's decided that life is so much easier (and cleaner) without them. I don't know what to do about this because I really don't want to give any of the animals away. I'd be bitter about it for the rest of my life. Yet I know when the baby is here (and in the last few uncomfortable months) the last thing I'm going to want to do is pet the cat in their needy moments because SORRY - there's an even needier little human in the house. I find it terribly interesting that Micah liked the cats at first - nay - PRETENDED to like the cats at first. What, to make me like him more? He says it's all about the baby now. He doesn't like the idea of the filthy animals getting our area filthier. You know what else is terribly interesting? That this all started when I let Micah know he'd be cleaning the litter box for the next nine months.

But then today he apologized up and down for the scene he caused last night. Perhaps I'm not the only one suffering from baby-related anxiety.

I can't eat a proper lunch or dinner. Do you know how frustrating that is? Mostly whatever we have in the house, I don't want. Yet I can think of ten things from nearby restaurants that sounds delicious. Until it's in front of me. Then I take a few bites and start crying because it's just not what I wanted it to be.

YEAH. Pregnancy SUCKS. If someone tells you different? Punch 'em in the fucking neck for me.

week 9: pukefest '07

Want to know what I brought to eat to work today? Because letting my stomach get empty brings forth Satan and all his horned beasts?

- one PB&J with giant holes in the bread, don't you hate holes in the bread?
- six string cheeses (or should it be strings cheese?)
- two cheddar cheese sticks (what? i'm concerned about my calcium intake)
- one tapioca pudding
- two 7ups
- 1 stack of Ritz crackers because Micah is not familiar with saltines (?!)
- 1 piece of banana pound cake from the gas station because mmmm banana pound cake
- one peach fruit cup
- one pear fruit cup

Yeah. I'm prepared. Hopefully this will be the last time I have to post about just how goddamn nauseating it is to be pregnant in the first trimester. At the start of week 9 I read this in my pregnancy book:

"How you're feeling physically: Your nauseating hCG levels are at their peak this week. The good news is that starting next week, as your hormones stabilize, you'll start feeling a lot better. The bad news is that this week is probably going to be rough."

Pshaw, thought I! I was already at the the third day of week 9 and I hadn't noticed any increased nausea. I certainly wasn't throwing up, just almost there just keep swallowing.

A few hours later I was throwing up all over the place and going home early because there was definitely foulness on my clothes. It's a horrible feeling, and it didn't only last that day. The past three days can be summed up as such: GODDAMN MISERABLE.


If I don't keep my stomach full it's bad news bears, and let me tell you - it's hard to keep myself feeling full when all I feel like eating is pudding and fruit smoothies. I have never had to force-feed myself in my life until now. Once my stomach is empty enough to feel nauseous it takes everything in my power to put food in my mouth, because WHO THE FUCK wants to eat when they're nauseous? But that's the only cure. And god forbid I let the empty stomach stay empty longer than ten minutes, for I will surely be hurling in no time. The funny thing is once I puke there's a window of eating opportunity that I must seize, and if I do all will be well for at least two hours. Yesterday after pulling over to puke in a (leaking) bag I made a beeline for McDonalds and was able to successfully enjoy a cheeseburger and french fries, which I find very odd considering mostly I find meat repulsive these days. Those fries, though...holy hamster those things are good.

At this point you are probably sick of reading about me feeling sick. I'm definitely sick of it, but quite honestly that is the only thing remarkable about this pregnancy so far. But I have not smoked a cigarette in three weeks! Pretty sure my little fetus is pumping her fist in the air (womb juice?) for me. Speaking of the bean, wanna see what she looks like right about now?

(This week I'm convinced it's a girl because a couple different people told me that's why I'm craving fruit. And that's not even old wives tale fodder - these people are genuine fruit-craving girl-birthers.)


Want to see something scary that has nothing to do with me being pregnant? Thought you might.

Go read this and then come back. Go.

Are you not frightened? What the fuck happened to her? Scary.

(You should bookmark that site, Dorothy Surrenders, it's good blog for all lesbian-related pop culture shtuff and sometimes just random posts about hot stars and what they're up to . I likey, and so will you.)

So. Ya got some baby names for me yet?

oh no you did not

So where was I? Baby names! There is no shortage of baby name resources on the internet. Some sites are great. Others...let's just say when the site is mostly driven by the "Add a name!" feature...they are begging for Crazy. And Crazy is what they get. My search for a cute baby name suddenly became a search for the most Crazy, at least on this particular site.

This is what happens when vowels are allowed to run amok. I promise I didn't make any of these up. But someone else obviously did. Have they no shame.

What I will NOT be naming my child:

Ayricka
Alicealeigh
Angelstarfyre
Brookelynn
Byronica
Breoshanae
Chantalice
Cynnamon
Dangerosa
Davenity
Dazzaray ("it's just a pretty name" is the description the sender-inner wrote. Most do not have descriptions, as it is clear even to the offenders that they are just pulling these out of their vowel-happy asses)
Deianeira
Dezahara
Dionynshia
Ece
Emmeleigh (Emily? Anyone? Hello?)
Enellra
Fenollosia
Glorivette
Gulchehra
Heavenleigh
Issariyahnah
Itzcallie (so, what you'd name your baby? Itzcallie. Aww, Callie! That's cute! No. Itzcallie. That's what I said.)
Jaeleigh
Jamanda
Jewleigha (I hope this is a joke.)
Katrynncia
Keandreanna
Kortknee
Launijana (did you not think "marijuana" at first glance?)
Leajenique
Ludiclaire
Malayshia (naming kids after third world countries but adding a letter to disguise it? all the rage.)
Mandorallyn
Maryannabelle (pick ONE. ONE!)
Nunavut
Nutan
Onyxia
Oravee (totally sounds like a toothpaste)
Paisleigh (I've 'bout had it with all the "leigh" bastardization)
Patheka
Psyrenity ("Her name is Serenity. But, like, with a "p." You know, a "p"...like in...psychology.")
Quirsten
Remembrance
Revalation (at least fucking spell it right.)
Rockalina (how very punk)
Shadonna
Shampaigne (at least FUCKING spell it RIGHT.)
Stormi
Tangelina
Taydence
Tykayla
Unique
Ureeka
Vesselina
Vilka
Whissper
Wiski (these are my twins Wiski and Vodkah!)
Wyleigh (and so it continues)
Xaiylah
Xyffra
Yoshabelle
Yshca
Zaeleigh (and so it ends)

I'm sort of afraid to put a list of names I AM considering, because that will give you tons of time to judge and tell me stories of people who have ruined that name. I will say I have a penchant for old-fashioned names like Mabel. I don't care so much about it being a surprise - hell, I already have the boy name picked out and I haven't been shy about it - but a girl? I dunno. Is it weird that I find it more important? If it's a boy it'll be Henry William. Possibly. Don't hold me to it. I think Henry is just about the cutest, most respectable name a little boy can grow into a man with. Mannwich. Mmm...sloppy joes sound good.

week 8: I love you, I hate you, I wanna eat you

Well. I have a half a mind to announce that pregnancy is for the birds. Then again, when I feel good, I feel great. But when I want to barf? Or if I'm even a little bit hungry? I feel totally miserable. And I know that's normal. In fact, they say that not having morning sickness is not a good sign.

The thing is? This morning was the first time I actually puked, and I made myself do it. I'm not now nor have I ever been bulemic, but I do know how to make myself puke and I'm not afraid to do it. Bring on that sweet relief, I say. Take control of your nausea. Don't let it run your life!

At first the nausea only happened when I had nothing in my stomach. On Saturday Micah took me out to breakfast, the diner kind, and on the way home (I wasn't driving - big mistake - I'm a carsicker) for the first time with a full belly, I wanted to hurl all over the place. My head hung out the window like a damn dog all the way home. I blame the greasy hash browns. But this morning I had Cinnamon Spice oatmeal, an orange, and a handful of Craisins. So nice and healthy. My body wanted nothing to do with it. Interestingly enough, as soon as I puked I made a pb & j and ate that without a problem. Let me tell you, it is SO WEIRD to be pregnant. I'm all frikakta.

And here's where it goes all over the place.

Beef, steak, and Taco Bell: you are on notice. I hate you. But maybe I also love you? Because while I wanted to puke while looking at Micah's steak omelette, I also devoured 1/2 of his Philly Cheese Steak sandwich later that same day. And poor Taco Bell - once hailed as my favorite fast food joint, I now shudder at the mere mention.

Hello, sex! How you doin'? There's all kinds of extra blood flowing down under, which makes it really fantastic and it totally melts me. When it actually happens. Between getting up at 6:00 to take the dog out and getting tired at 8:00, it's hard to find time to git 'er done. And sometimes I am so fantastically bitchy that Micah knows not to even try.

Speaking of bitchy. Can we talk mood swings? One minute I want to cut off both of the penises in the house, burn them a little, then hang them on the front door as a warning. The next minute I want every creature cuddled in the bed with me, an impossibility considering one cat wants to claw the dog's eyeballs out. I love my husband! I HATE MY HUSBAND. GO AWAY. No, baby, come back. I love you. Do you know you are SO HOT? Let's do it.

So basically, I feel like a crazy person. All the time. If I hate something one second I will no doubt love it the next. I have read that this type of craziness could last all nine months.

FRUUUUIT. I love you, fruit. Wanna make out? Maybe we should get all orgy about it and bring in the sorbet. Yeahhh. That's the ticket.

Though I do think it's a bit early to discuss it, I can't stop thinking about baby names. Would you be disgusted if I told you that I've had a list of baby names on my computer for like a year? It's important. Very. And I'd love to hear your suggestions. Seriously! Just don't cry when I don't pick yours. But what if I picked yours? You'd feel so goddamn special, no? I would know - my one friend who is already a mom picked my suggestion. So don't be shy.

I've only known I'm pregnant for one week. It feels like so much longer. In fact, time in general seemed to slow down when I found out.

And on Friday when Micah brought home a gift from his boss's wife, it really, really sank in. Our first baby gift. Two adorable yellow outfits. Entirely too soon for a gift like that, but you know it made me cry anyway.

Now. Dig me up some baby names.

the next big thing

I'm back, y'all! With a fetus in tow! How's THAT for an entrance?

I think most of the people that read this have already been told. If I didn't tell you personally, forgive me. As you can imagine my brain has been all over the place. Like Britney.

Now excuse me while I go barf.

Actually more like hover over the toilet and wish I were barfing. See, I am not afraid to puke. I don't understand how anyone could be afraid of it. Sure, it's totally vile when it's happening but when you're done and you feel a million times better? Tell me that's not worth it. It so is.

I will admit I rested my cheek on the toilet seat in between spittings. But ONLY because the air regulation system where I work doesn't regulate shit and it was about ninety fo'zillion degrees up in that bathroom, but the seat? Cool like cucumber. And I wiped my cheek with anti-bac afterwards so get that repulsed look off your face. It's not like people rub their 'ginas on the seat. Come on. Are you daring me to go find a study that says there are more germs on your cell phone than on a toilet seat? Hm? I'LL DO IT.

Because I have massive amounts of time to play on the internet, I have taken it upon myself to find out everything there is to know about being pregnant. I even signed up at the iVill*ge site so I could create a pregnancy calendar and see what kind of limbs my fetus is growing this week. (Buds of arms, turns out!) It's week seven, by the way. Seven of THIRTY-EIGHT if all goes well. Did you know elephants carry for two years?

I have also been perusing the October 2007 Expecting Club forum (awww shit, I'm in a club). Turns out pregnant women are crazy and also? The corniest bunch of quacks you ever saw in your life. At the bottom of just about every forum post are homemade graphics showing off the fam.

You know you need some examples.

(hello, menopause babies! I totally thought those people were husband and wife at first.)

(I'm not getting this "mom to" and "wife to" nonsense. And how relieved is little Jesse that his mom couldn't think of an inspirational name for a boy? That's why he smiles so big.)

*shudder* I'm pretty sure all the estrogen pumping through these women has skewed their sense of what is just too fucking cheesy for words. I promise right now I will NEVER make a collage-type homage like this.

However, I must admit it's comforting to know I have a way to connect with a bunch of women on the same pregnancy timeline. Speaking of timelines, here's what my little glob should look like right about now:

My little ALIEN is more like it.

But I could be smitten with an alien if he was taking up residence in my abdomen.

You know what? As freaked out as I am about this sometimes, it's actually quite fun.

What isn't so fun is that I have to wait until March 30 for my first OB/GYN appointment. I'm one of those irresponsible fucks who never took herself to the gyno. But all that shall change, so don't you worry. My bits will never be so thoroughly inspected as they shall be in the next nine months. It was kind of weird picking a doctor. I knew I didn't want a male doctor. I knew I didn't want to find a doctor at St. J*hn's, which is St. Louis' baby factory, because it's just too far away. If something goes wrong I want to be right around the corner. So I picked one at B*rnes Jewish. You can hop on the website and fill in exactly the kind of doctor you want, down to their age. So I found a nice female doctor in her early thirties who is very pretty and kind-looking, but not too pretty, because please. I don't want Gisele Bundch*n staring back at me and my bits.

I think the computer is making me nauseous. I think BREATHING might also be a culprit, for that seems to be all it takes.

Over and out. Preggo style.