You? You are my sunshine. You also have a lot of questions (like A LOT)…so…here…I shall answer them.
I have peed on every dollar store pregnancy test in Marion, Johnson, Hendricks, Hancock and Hamilton County. It’s become a party trick…see how quick I can make the second line show up. I’m to the point I can make the pregnant line show up before the default line, I’d show you…but…no.
I am eight weeks. I think. Pregnancy math is hard. Apparently it starts before you even get pregnant. I am due at the end of April/early May (I think) which is also when my birthday is. Look, I know I waited a long time for this…but I’m not sure I’m ready to share my birthday yet. We’ll discuss.
I know eight weeks isn’t out of the woods. But frankly I was tired of being in the woods by myself. And besides, if something were to happen I would tell you anyway so regardless I would have dragged you all into the woods with me at some point anyway. Here, bug spray, you’ll need it.
Yes. My husband is an attorney. No. We do not have insurance. Yes. This scares the hell out of me.
Hyperemesis. Nope, not this time (so far. yay!) It hit me like a ton of bricks with Addie between seven and eight weeks, this time it’s just a gentle slime of nausea that ebbs and flows with the occasional barf and numerous dry heaves. If *this* is the morning sickness so many books talk about? I want a trophy for surviving with Addie.
Yes. I’m aware that with the difference in sickness there’s a good chance this one has some extra parts. Which means there could be a little tiny penis inside me. This unnerves me greatly.
Things I forgot about? The pee. How I can produce so much pee at all hours of the day is beyond my comprehension. And my hair. Which probably shouldn’t follow the pee thing, but still. My hair hasn’t been falling out. Which is totally awesome. And it’s all lustrous and bouncy. Go pregnancy hair! Also? Pregnancy boobs. The titty fairy giveth and birth will taketh away.
The biggest thing I forgot about? Making people is exhausting.
How did I tell Cody? I threw a stick at him from across his big lawyer desk at work. Exactly how you pictured it, I know. Nothing says surprise! like an overpriced piece of plastic your wife has peed on to really drive the point home.
Does Addie know? Yes. We told her after I had a particularly rough day with the barfs. She wasn’t happy. (Remember, this is the kid who shouted “I DON’T WANT KIDS, THEY’RE TOO MUCH WORK.” at the dinner table. Amen kid, amen.) However she slept on it and now she thinks it’s a capital idea. But she makes everyone who comes in contact with me promise to take care of me. Which is cute when it’s Cody but gets awkward in the Costco checkout line.
Nickname? Mozzi. As in the little charming bald guy from White Collar He can’t be dead. If he’s really dead? You’re dead to us USA writers.
Most of all? The emotions. Pregnancy is full of so much funny (gas! boobzilla!)…but it’s shadowed by so much stress.
But with all the comments yesterday (!!) this one in particular struck me (thank you Sarah)…I need to remember nothing has gone wrong. I need to quit thinking about it as if something has. Because it hasn’t. Well, except for the grilled cheese Cody made for dinner. That? WAS WRONG.
I am allowed to be happy about this.
Bridget said “Miscarriage and infertility steal a part of you. The part that lets you hope and dream with reckless abandon.”
Well I’m stealing them back.