The best way I can describe being pregnant (at least right now), is that it’s like I have a tapeworm or that some alien has taken over my body. I get FAMISHED, but I can’t just eat anything. I can only eat things that don’t smell too strongly. I get nauseous from just about anything, from being tired, to smelling things, to reading about food. That’s right, I can’t even read the words “ground beef” without feeling like I have to drink some Sprite and eat crackers. At first, the feeling of being taken over was incredibly frustrating. I couldn’t do half of the things in a day that I used to and I always have to schedule a nap. At this point, I’m mostly used to the slower pace and my only concern is that it will make me lazy in the years to come. And, I really like naps.
Some foods that I can eat (and boy do I eat them):
Whole wheat Ritz crackers
Cream of wheat
Bananas & peanut butter
Some foods that send me running:
Anything with lots of spices
The nausea is definitely the most noticeable symptom of pregnancy for me. I have to carefully manage the way I feel, because even if I feel pretty good, one false step can completely ruin me. Other symptoms at this point are: irritability, big boobs (hey, I’m sort of proud), inability to care about anyone other than myself and my baby. Actually, sometimes I use little Pat for excuses for why people shouldn’t upset me (it’s not good for the baby if I get so emotional!), or why I can’t clean (chemicals). But, really, these things do actually make me nauseous, so it’s half true.
So, now both of the future grandmothers are really getting into their roles. Which mainly includes buying stuff & thinking about what this child will call them. If you’ve ever been around a baby-boomer woman who is a grandmother or is about to become one, you may notice a distinct desire NOT be called anything with “grand” or that sounds like a traditional word for “grandmother.” That includes “gramma”, “grams,” “granny” or anything that my generation actually used for our own grandparents. Instead, they are coming up with these adorable names that sound more like things we would call our tiny dogs. Not to belittle the practice at all, I absolutely LOVE some of these new names. Plus, I can’t really picture my mom as “granny” anyway. I’ve heard everything from “MiMi” and “GiGi” to “Bopa” and “MeMaw”. The husbands, by the way, seem to go along with it, allowing their wives to choose an appropriate name that sounds good with the new “grandmother” diminutive. I think that as long as that little toe-gummer crawls onto gramp’s lap, he doesn’t mind being called “PePaw” or even “PooPoo.”
The other sign of a new grandmother is something called “excessive buying.” Even before little Piddles had fingers, he/she had toys to grab with them. My mom has actually been collecting (or hording?) anything baby-related since Josh and I were engaged. Well, maybe not QUITE that early, but certainly by the time we were settled down in St Louis, our future child already possessed a stroller. It’s been something that has, in my pre-pregnancy past, caused extreme eye-rolling. But now, boy am I excited. The little bugger already has most of the necessary nursery furniture, a couple of car seats, clothes, blankets & toys, all thanks to his GiGi and MiMi (or whatever they end up calling themselves). We are truly thankful. Now, if we could just get them to buy us a house to put it all in…
At my first appointment with my doctor, the due date was set at March 30. This is all based off of my memory of when the first day of my last period was. Well, I sort of had a general idea, so I told them a date. It was a pretty typical appointment – confirmed the pregnancy, asked if I had questions, and set the appointment for the first ultrasound. Josh went to this appointment, which was nice. But, I was super nervous for some reason. I think I keep expecting someone to say, “Oh, you’re not really pregnant. You just ate something weird.” I know that in theory, WOMEN are made to do this thing where they incubate and bring to life another person. I just didn’t know that MY BODY could actually do it. Sometimes I think, “How does my body know to do this? It’s never done it before. It’s a total novice. What if it’s attaching things in the wrong place, like a new kid in shop class?”
Many of you already know that we weren’t exactly TRYING to get pregnant. I mean, we were PLANNING to START to TRY soon, but weren’t actually trying when this happened. And so, on July 26, we got a rather large surprise when that pesky little stick actually showed a positive sign. I don’t mind telling you that, like many women, I have taken quite a few of those tests over the years. Needless to say, I’d never seen what a positive even looked like and I doubted the stick’s ability to show something other than a strong, pink minus sign. So, that Saturday morning, my hand was actually shaking when the positive appeared and I showed the test to Josh. I was a little annoyed at my body’s over-dramatic, highly predictable reaction. Couldn’t I be a little original? Anyway, it was a surreal day and I have to say that it took quite a while for anything to truly sink in.
Another thing that isn’t a secret, is that this seems to be a family legacy. My parents also got pregnant without actually trying to. But they weren’t planning on starting any time soon, so the surprise was a little less pleasant for them. My dad in particular was a bit petulant that this little baby would take all of the attention off of him and would change his life. Of course, they then found out (5 days before we were born), that there wasn’t going to be just 1 attention-sucking child, there would be 2. Anyone who knows my dad, knows instinctively that the moment we were born, we stole his heart and he would never regret that accidental pregnancy again. I don’t mind taking some credit for his loving & soft-hearted nature. I’m told he wasn’t always like that. You’re welcome.
Yes, we too have fallen prey to the desires to keep the world updated with every facet of our baby’s development. I’m envisioning this blog spanning the years of our children’s lives, starting at the very beginning – from when they are tiny cells. At this point, this blog will be mostly about Cassi (me) being pregnant and its effect on me physically & emotionally. We’ll also share information that we’ve been learning and thinking about, as well as any honest to goodness “news” about the baby’s development.
Now, we’ve debated on what to call this little being before we know its gender. Yes, there’s always “the baby” or “he/she”, but that’s a little too, well, normal for us. At one point Josh suggested “Baby Boo,” which I thought to be absolutely adorable. That, of course, wasn’t his intent, so he immediately recanted and said, “I mean, Pat” or, some such silly name like that. So, in this blog, if you see any reference to “Piddles” or “Wimpy”, it’s just me trying to come up with a creative, non-gendered name for the newest member of our family.
By the way, when we DO come up with an official name for the Clausenite, you might want to save yourself the trouble of asking what it is. Our answer will likely be “Ethel” or “Horace.” In other words, we’re not telling.