Lucky number ten.

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1. Still off work. This marks the start of week #4. I will be back at work by next Monday at the latest, so help me God.

2. Went to our niece’s Christening yesterday. I assume you capitalise things when they involve renouncing Satan? Anyway, we sat at the very back of the cathedral so I could eat the entire service – and also run outside to puke on their multi-million pound/dollar/whatever lawn if needed. We sat across the aisle from Bil and Sil’s Jewish neighbors, who also spent the whole time feeding their son. TMD and I couldn’t decide if we were the heathen section or the picnic section; in fact, perhaps the two are not mutually exclusive.

3. Bil has told all of his friends we are pregnant with twins, even though we said SHH TOP SECRET to him. They were all loudly congratulating us in front of TMD’s family. This was a little awkward, but we escaped discovery.

4. I’ve not heard from the hospital yet regarding the booking in appointment or the twelve week scan. Going to call them tomorrow. I have a phobia about checking voicemail AND about making phone calls, it would appear. Called Dr. Shitface today to extend my sick  note and get a referral to physiotherapy, and was beyond relieved to hear he couldn’t call back until tomorrow – despite the fact that the referral should have been made eons ago.

5. My leg is wacked. I did a ‘lot’ of ‘walking’ yesterday at the Christening. (Christ claims you for his own!) Translated this means relying heavily on the crutches to walk about three minutes. This exertion has left my leg semi-dead and very stiff.

6. Sil gave me lots of maternity clothes. Yipee! Including a nice pair of jeans that I will have to start wearing now, as in about three weeks time (if that) I reckon they won’t fit anymore.

7. I have finally managed to weigh myself. I was curious to do this because my body is turning into a flobby (the perfect word) garbly mess. Turns out I’ve not gained weight. I’ve not stayed the same. No, folks, I’ve LOST weight from all the upchucking. Nice.

8. I watched a tv show about IVF this morning and just kept crying. Throughout the whole pregnancy thing I have been wondering why I do not feel more special, or pregnant, or mom-ish. My reaction to the IVF programme obviously indicates there is a lot going on under the surface, even if I appear to be disbelieving that there are babies in my stomach. My nipples, vomit, and poochy tummy provide proof things are happening (a disco party? hair braiding? basketball games?) and I STILL DON’T BELIEVE IT. I don’t know if this is normal or what.

9. Nine weeks two days pregnant today.

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3 Responses to “Lucky number ten.”

  1. Tatiana Says:

    It takes awhile to FEEL pregnant or special or mom-ish. Hell, my baby hardly felt real until I felt her move (even hearing the heartbeat at my midwife appointments was touching, but didn’t really click with me once I left the office); I felt more “connected” when I saw her on the ultrasound, and then with every little thing afterwards — buying the stroller, putting together the crib, getting presents for her in the mail, etc.

    Even so, even with almost everything in place, my belly huge, her moving all the time, etc — sometimes, I still feel like this isn’t real. Sometimes I wish I had more time before she were here. Sometimes I look at my husband and worry that he’s more ready than I am, or that I’m going to love him more than our baby. When we go to the store and all of the “expectant mother or mothers with small children” spots are taken, I get angry not because I have to park further away (big deal) but because I am not SPECIAL, and I am not the only one having a baby — and someday, the baby whose mother is in that spot might be her best friend, her first crush, her first heartbreak….

    I guess what I’m saying is that, for me at least, the gamut of emotions is huge and unpredictable. Keep your chin up, your sense of humour intact, and remember that “this too shall pass” 🙂

  2. Alverson Says:

    This post reminds me of something my Uncle Rick once said…

    if a sweat shop factory had air conditioning would it still be called a sweat shop?

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