Waaaaaaah!!!
I'm sick!!! I haven't been vomiting, so I feel like a big baby whining about it, but dammit, I feel bad. Nausea is my big weakness. I'd rather be in pain than barfy. For example, last year when I had my wisdom teeth out, I didn't take the painkillers (they made me barfy). I preferred pain to nausea. But there's no choice here. I'm queasy all the time. And truthfully, it's just a tiny bit of barely-there queasiness, but I am a BIG BABY when it comes to this particular physical sensation and I just feel plain awful.
And I'm tired! This has been coming on for about ten days now, but it's getting worse by the day. I am really freaking tired, man. This thing is sucking me dry.
MollyMooCow says she's had babies on the brain. I can understand that. After I got bitten by the I-Want-A-Baby-Bug, I thought about the little critters all the time. It's weird, because I DIDN'T KNOW I WANTED ONE until all of a sudden. I guess my clock started ticking.
But last night I had a freak-out about it. I think telling people (you guys and the to-be grandparents--we're not telling anybody here yet--except for maybe Jessica, who JESSICA IF YOU READ THIS JEEZUS DON'T TELL ANYONE!!) turned it all VERY VERY real. I threw a big hissy fit, shrieking about how this is going to ruin my career (fledgeling as it is), and how my poor body is going to be mutilated, and how never again ever in my life will I get to be alone because there will always be this little PERSON hanging around, and how my self-identity is going to be wrought out of shape because of this, and wah wah wah boo hoo for me!!! And it's all your fault, Tom, you infected me first with the baby-wanting virus and then the baby!! AAAGHHH!
I've been having a fantasy. It goes like this. I drag myself to the doctor and say, "Take it out of me! I want my body back!" The doctor opens me up like an oven (door and everything) and removes the pan with the bread dough in it. She puts it on the counter, closes my oven door, and suddenly I feel like myself again. I'm gushing with happiness and I shake her hand and thank her, and go home, as if I'd never been pregnant.
Well, that won't happen. See, I'm very selfish. And I'm scared, I guess. Well, no, I mean, I KNOW I'm scared. Tom and I are educated people who thought about this decision a lot before we went and got pregnant. But for him, it's still all La-la-la wonderful, and for me, it's a whole different level of real. I'm bloated, and ouchy, and nauseus, and scared! And there's no getting out of it! It's not like standing in line for a rollercoaster and changing your mind at the last minute. Nope, I'm in it for LIFE, however long that turns out to be. And that's scary!!
This weekend, we rearranged the bedroom to allow me an easier path to the bathroom. I'm not kidding when I say that for the past two weeks or so I've had to go ever two hours, at least. Jeez.
When will I start to feel the miracle?? Somebody, quick, make me laugh before I start to barf.
I'm sick!!! I haven't been vomiting, so I feel like a big baby whining about it, but dammit, I feel bad. Nausea is my big weakness. I'd rather be in pain than barfy. For example, last year when I had my wisdom teeth out, I didn't take the painkillers (they made me barfy). I preferred pain to nausea. But there's no choice here. I'm queasy all the time. And truthfully, it's just a tiny bit of barely-there queasiness, but I am a BIG BABY when it comes to this particular physical sensation and I just feel plain awful.
And I'm tired! This has been coming on for about ten days now, but it's getting worse by the day. I am really freaking tired, man. This thing is sucking me dry.
MollyMooCow says she's had babies on the brain. I can understand that. After I got bitten by the I-Want-A-Baby-Bug, I thought about the little critters all the time. It's weird, because I DIDN'T KNOW I WANTED ONE until all of a sudden. I guess my clock started ticking.
But last night I had a freak-out about it. I think telling people (you guys and the to-be grandparents--we're not telling anybody here yet--except for maybe Jessica, who JESSICA IF YOU READ THIS JEEZUS DON'T TELL ANYONE!!) turned it all VERY VERY real. I threw a big hissy fit, shrieking about how this is going to ruin my career (fledgeling as it is), and how my poor body is going to be mutilated, and how never again ever in my life will I get to be alone because there will always be this little PERSON hanging around, and how my self-identity is going to be wrought out of shape because of this, and wah wah wah boo hoo for me!!! And it's all your fault, Tom, you infected me first with the baby-wanting virus and then the baby!! AAAGHHH!
I've been having a fantasy. It goes like this. I drag myself to the doctor and say, "Take it out of me! I want my body back!" The doctor opens me up like an oven (door and everything) and removes the pan with the bread dough in it. She puts it on the counter, closes my oven door, and suddenly I feel like myself again. I'm gushing with happiness and I shake her hand and thank her, and go home, as if I'd never been pregnant.
Well, that won't happen. See, I'm very selfish. And I'm scared, I guess. Well, no, I mean, I KNOW I'm scared. Tom and I are educated people who thought about this decision a lot before we went and got pregnant. But for him, it's still all La-la-la wonderful, and for me, it's a whole different level of real. I'm bloated, and ouchy, and nauseus, and scared! And there's no getting out of it! It's not like standing in line for a rollercoaster and changing your mind at the last minute. Nope, I'm in it for LIFE, however long that turns out to be. And that's scary!!
This weekend, we rearranged the bedroom to allow me an easier path to the bathroom. I'm not kidding when I say that for the past two weeks or so I've had to go ever two hours, at least. Jeez.
When will I start to feel the miracle?? Somebody, quick, make me laugh before I start to barf.
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
Subscribe to Post Comments [Atom]
<< Home