Ramblings at 13.5 weeks

I used to think of pregnancy as a thing that happened in months, e.g., you’re 3 months pregnant! Oh no, folks. Each week feels like such a freakin’ achievement that I’m counting in weeks… and half weeks. 13.5, baby!!! Give me a gold star!

I felt so great last week that I gleefully thought I was escaping the oppression of morning sickness and helloooooo second trimester! I went out to lunch on Saturday; I ate salad! I bought groceries that resembled normal food! I sewed curtains for the living room! And my body responded with a slap in the face Sunday morning: exhaustion and severe nausea that’s still going strong right now (Tuesday afternoon). I stayed home from work yesterday. That was good, because I ended up gagging while feeding the cats and subsequently puking in the kitchen sink. I went back to work today (there’s only so much x-files a girl can watch…) but regretted it. I spent the day gagging and dry heaving at my desk, interspersed with deep breathing and sternly telling myself that I absolutely could NOT puke: the office bathroom is much too far to make it if I do.

Oh, let’s record this for posterity too: after all-day nausea yesterday, I thought I could eat a semi-normal dinner. A grilled cheese, a little mashed avocado, some sweet potato rounds. Sounds good, right? NOPE. The food seemed to sit just at the back of my throat. I couldn’t go to bed because I was nauseous and felt like I needed to stay upright. I stayed on the couch until I was exhausted, then tried to go bed… but ended up sitting in bed, propped up on pillows, for over an hour more. That grilled cheese kept me awake well past midnight!

(I want to write this shit down because I hope that someday it will comfort someone else. Morning sickness really gets in your head.)

I am reading pregnancy blog posts and birth stories like its my job. It gets me through.

This afternoon, Scott asked me if he could pick anything up on the way home. Without hesitation, I asked for: Popsicles and gummy bears. And I mean the cheapie Popsicles, none of that real-fruit bullshit.

Last ramble for today: last Monday, I had my 12-week ultrasound. Seeing that sweet little profile made my heart melt into a great big puddle! The ultrasounds and hearing the heartbeat make it all feel real, and it gives me the energy to keep slogging through the morning sickness.

During the ultrasound, I asked the tech when we could find out the baby’s gender. She said, well let’s look right now! It’s still early, so I can’t say that I’m 100% confident in he result, but… she said it looks like a boy! She zoomed up in between the nugget’s little legs, and there sure did appear to be something there. I could see it too.

I was surprised to find myself thrown off by this news. I have thought all along that our nugget was a girl, and really I’ve been imagining a girl with Scott all these years we’ve been waiting. That would be 5 years ish of imagining a little girl. So it’s a mental adjustment, for sure! I wouldn’t say that I’m disappointed in any way whatsoever, but it’s definitely taking some time to wrap my mind around the idea. Our maybe baby boy.


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