So. Yeah. Knocked up. Preggers. Bun in the oven. Baby on board. Preggo. With child. Damn, Billy Joe, the rabbit done died.
I don't know how I feel about this pregnancy yet. When I found out I was pregnant with Chicky I was so shocked, even though we were actively trying the idea I would actually see a plus sign on my EPT stick never occurred to me until that point. I carried the knowledge around like a really good secret. I was special. I was going to make a baby. Wow.
This time? I took the test while Chicky was eating lunch. I saw the results, called Mr. C at work and shared the news, and then went on with my day. No big deal. We've been through this before.
It's still ridiculously early so I've been able to fight off the nausea and I'm exhausted all day long (Oh My Gaw, I don't remember being this tired) but those are the only indications that I'll be having another springtime baby. There's no excitement. No anticipation. Only dread of the upcoming months of sickness, back pain and swelling.
I am, officially, a horrible human being.
I want to be excited. I want to feel like I'm jumping out of my skin. I want to connect with this baby.
I don't want to feel selfish and undeserving. But I do.
Whether it was the universe or the combination of my husband's super sperm and my slutty eggs (willing to open up wide to the first organism who swam by), something decided that my body would easily accept a fetus. I wish my mind was as open and willing.
** While I was wallowing in my own weepiness (I hate being ruled by my hormones) it seems like I went from being able to fight off the nausea to becoming intimately involved with my toilet overnight. I've been down this road before but I'm hoping there are some nausea fighting tips you know of that I haven't yet tried. And since you're all responsible for making me this weepy, what with your kind comments and all, I sort of figured you'd send some tips my way. I'm weak and woozy. More so than usual. Help me.
Sunday, September 30, 2007