The curse of morning sickness has hit me. Hard. It’s more like all day sickness. Whoever termed it morning sickness must have misspelt mourning. It’s off and on in the morning and then pretty constant in the afternoon. Oh, how I wish I could puke (except at work which would be weird since no one knows). It’s just a constant queasiness that makes me feel like I have to lose it all.
I’ve mentioned this before but my emotions have been running high and low. Today I found out that a dear friend has advanced stage colon cancer and it’s spread to his liver. I’m incredible saddened by this. He is like a grandpa to my kids. I actually cried in my cube today. How do I have the right to feel sick when this is happening? I can’t help but think how unfair it all is. It’s a sick, sad day.
Yesterday was the first day I really had a bad emotional day even though I can feel this little person inside me is taking over me and will soon make me seem somewhat bipolar at times.
This is my third time around, so it isn’t surprising to me. I have the best husband in the world. He’s the best dad, he’s kind, sharing, smart, sexy, funny, and very loving. Despite this, it is still hard for him to deal with me in this state. I think he’s doing an excellent job considering, at times, I’m a pretty big challenge. This week I’ll really be working on staying positive, despite my raging hormones.
My dad still tells the story about how my mom taught aerobics class when she was very pregnant with me…complete with 1983 model leotard, tights, and leg warmers. He said she looked like Mr. Peanut with her belly plus her amazingly toned arms and legs.
I thought about this tonight as I tried out my new pregnancy aerobics video. The girls on here probably would resemble Mr. Peanut as well had they worn 1980’s fashions rather than comfy yoga pants.
I’m jealous. Right now I’m at that awkward, “man, she needs to lay off the donuts” stage. From here I will spend about two days in “awe, you’re so cute” stage, before transforming into the Michelin man for the remainer of my pregnancy. We are talking about brick for feet and ankles that people refer to as kankles on steroids. The worst thing about this is that people either feel sorry for you or assume you have hypertension or gestational diabetes, which I’ve had neither.
The positive thing is, after it’s over the swelling goes away. However….
I’ll never have legs and arms like Mr. Peanut.
I’ll admit it. I love to talk. Keeping exciting secrets is extremely hard for me. At this point we’ve shared our little secret with only immediate family and I had to share with one person at work.
I have to keep things confidential at work all the time, so it’s nothing new. But when it comes to exciting personal news I can’t wait to share. It’s killing me to keep my little secret in but we would feel better waiting until after the first ultrasound. So here we are…keeping our special little secret.
My baby is four. Crazy to believe it’s been that long. So much has happened in these four years:
- New job
- Kids in new preschools
- Oldest starting kindergarten
- Another baby on the way
I digress. Anna is a spunky beautiful little sassy pants who is very smart, loves attention and will talk your ear off. She keeps our lives interesting and fun.
We celebrated twice for her birthday: once at her Frozen birthday party on Saturday and once tonight by going to see Cinderella as a family. Elsa even joined us to provide entertainment on Saturday. Good times. Here’s to many more special birthday celebrations!
This is my first official post on this new blog and I feel like I should acknowledge that. There….now I have.
I’m somewhere around 3-4 weeks pregnant. It’s embarrassing to have tell your OBGYN that you don’t know when your last cycle started when she knew you were actually trying to make a baby. And by trying, I mean tried…one month. I think I knew before I tested but when I saw the first positive test, I thought, “Seriously?!?” That was followed by another test, also positive. At this point I’m thinking, “How the hell?” to which I had to answer myself with, “You know how…it’s what you were trying to accomplish!” I just didn’t expect it so quickly. And I should’ve. My son took one month and my daughter two months to conceive. Both times: same reaction.
So here I am: knocked up and hungry.
And cranky. And tired. And annoyed. And guilty for complaining when this is what I wanted and so many people have such a hard time getting to this point.
So, I’m going to go to sleep now and hoping I’m not as hungry tomorrow.
Hello. It won’t let me delete this.