life + stuff

Happy Spring

DSC_0128Happy spring equinox!  We celebrated with a neighborhood walk this evening, soaking up the extra sunshine. And of course I had to run out into the garden to capture the golden hour light on the first day of spring.

Ahhh, spring, I’m so glad you’re here.


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.


I’m not supposed to eat that.

Before I was pregnant, I always cringed at the phrase, “I’m not supposed to eat that.” Like, c’mon lady, if you want it so bad that you have to bitch about it all the time, then JUST EAT IT. Eat your hot dog and shut up about it.

Allow me to humbly say: I get it now.

Hot dogs sound super disgusting to me right now, but I could go for all the forbidden cheeses. And some sushi, and let’s not forget: wine, beer, or a giant margarita. When I pause to think about it, though, it seems like such a small thing to give up. I’m a little wistful for a margarita, on a patio in warm weather, but it’s not hard to give up at all. That marg will be waiting for me in September 🙂

Oh, but let’s not pretend that I’m perfect. It’s totally easy to give up these forbidden foods 99.9% of the time, but I don’t feel bad about that .1% that’s slipped through:

A few weeks ago (before I started showing at all), I slowly sipped half a beer with my dinner. I figured it was my last chance to order a drink without being judged.

I ate real sushi one time, and it was delicious. It was from a place I trust to be fresh, where I have eaten many times before, so I just wasn’t worried about it. But since then, I figured out that I could hit that sushi craving with vegetable-only rolls. So that’s easy.

I ate a salad with feta the other day, just because I forgot it was verboten. I figure all the veggies did me good, though, so I’m not worried.

I ate deli turkey one time. My sandwich came from a busy shop, so I felt sure it would be freshly sliced. It was a delicious bright spot in a very long 2 months (and counting) of “morning” sickness, and I just find myself unable to feel guilty about it.


feeling human, almost

Last week, I wrote this long, cathartic post about how crappy I’ve been feeling, and how I was finally feeling better. And then I clicked Publish, and WordPress lost my post. And then, lest I get too excited about the “feeling better” stuff, I puked later that very same night. I still count myself lucky since that was the only time I’ve actually hurled… you know, so far.

I can’t really say I’m feeling all better. I have good days and bad days, sometimes in the same day. I think I’m starting to adjust, though. Part of my struggle for the first month was that I did not expect this part to be so hard. I did not expect to be so tired. I did not expect my brain to slow down to half its normal speed. I did not understand that most women are affected by “morning” sickness to some degree, so I had this unrealistic little idea that I would just keep eating paleo and it would keep me feeling fine. A lovely idea, right? Sounded great until I realized that simple carbs are the only thing I can stomach, no matter what I thought or planned for.

So it’s good days and bad days, or good moments and bad moments, and the best I can do is let this time pass. And eat crackers. And take a vitamin B6 supplement every day, in addition to my prenatal vitamin. It doesn’t bring back my appetite or make me feel 100%, but it has done a lot to keep the waves of nausea at a lower level. I’m extra-sure it’s working because the one day I forgot to take it, last Saturday, is the one day when I actually lost my dinner.

Another thing that was unexpected for me: all this nausea and exhaustion and hormone-roller-coaster-riding has really put a damper on my excitement. I would not have thought that was possible! I felt guilty about it at first, but I think it’s normal. I think it will pass.

One evening this past week, I turned to Scott in tears and said: I’m afraid I’ll never be myself again. I don’t feel like myself right now, and then when this part is over, I still won’t be me, I’ll be a mom-person. I don’t remember exactly what he said to comfort me, but he did comfort me and it did help, I remember that. Again, I think it’s normal to feel this way in the face of all these huge changes. It’s true that I won’t ever be the same again. I’m grieving the end of a part of my life: the end of being 28-year-old, married-no-kids Emily. But the seasons of life change, baby or no. Even without parenthood on the horizon, I still wouldn’t be the same exact person right now as I was 6 months ago. Change is life. Change is good. Some day, I’ll eat regular food again… and some day farther in the future, I’ll even sit on a patio with my husband and drink a margarita again! It will happen, some day. That’s all I really want.


  • Peanut butter and jelly sandwiches are saving my life. Also bagels with cream cheese.
  • I have to be careful not to eat something too many times in a row, or suddenly my tastes will turn against it and I won’t be able to stomach it any more. Italian food, baked potatoes, ginger ale, macaroni and cheese, and chicken noodle soup are all in the banned category now.
  • Everything still smells terrible! Especially our refrigerator. I hold my breath when I open it.
  • I went to a yoga class on Saturday morning for the first time in weeks, and I’m so glad I went… even though it felt much harder than it “should have!”
  • Over the past few weeks, we’ve had something like 6 snow days. The timing was so, so good for me. Just about all I did was sleep.
  • We had our first doctor’s appointment last Monday, Feb. 10! But that will get its own post. It was so special.

and so it begins…

I’m pregnant, y’all. Preggo. And it’s too early to tell most anybody, but of course, I really really really wanna talk about it. And now I have a space for that.

Today, I am 6 weeks pregnant. That’s weird, because I actually got knocked up 4 weeks ago, but they do the countin’ from the first day of my last cycle. So I’m 6 weeks, and The Internet tells me this little nugget is about the size of a pomegranate seed.

For being so tiny, this pomegranate-seed-sized-bebe sure is making me tired. I have learned (the hard way) that I actually need 9 hours of sleep. NINE. If I only get 8 hours, I turn into this queasy-pukey, zombie version of me. Soooo tired. 9 hours of sleep, though, and I feel almost normal! I can eat normal food and form sentences—things that I took for granted just a few weeks ago.


  • I’m so glad I didn’t enroll in grad school this semester. I think it would be impossible.
  • My new bedtime is 9:30 pm. Really.
  • Lemon-flavored cough drops take the edge off my nausea (which set in a couple days ago, so around 5 1/2 weeks).
  • I’m dealing with a heavy, heavy fear that something will happen with this pregnancy, and all I want is for the little nugget to stay put and keep cooking. Several times a day, I have to take deep breaths and remind myself: the entire human race, billions of people, got here because women got pregnant, stayed pregnant, and gave birth to healthy babies. Take care of yourself; there is nothing else that needs to be done. I also remind myself that it’s a good sign that I’m so tired and queasy. It means my body is busy doing its thang. This is comforting to me at a time when I don’t look pregnant or feel baby kicks yet.
  • I’m tired, I’m nauseous, and I can’t have coffee… and I don’t really care. It’s so beyond worth it. Yes, I have these symptoms, and no, they are not my idea of a good time. But I really do not mind one bit. This has surprised me, a lot. I was especially surprised at how easily I gave up the coffee!