Today marks the start of week seven of this baby adventure. So far, things are great. I feel good, no more issues from late last month and even that strange nightly pill isn't having the side effects that I was warned about. My appetite is WAY out of control, which frankly scares me. I just spent the last few years getting my life on track and this little Blueberry had better not take me back to the starting gate.
I'm on a work out time out and I have been walking, it isn't enough to keep up with the intake. I'm feeling squishy in areas I worked hard to not be squishy in. I don't want to be paranoid about my weight, I accept that I have to feed the Peanut and that I can make healthy choices, but... waaah.
Other than a few minor issues, the tender boobies and the fact that they are more full than before I'm not feeling overly aware of this pregnancy. At seven weeks I'm supposed to be puking my guts out and crying at the drop of a hat. Don't hate me, but I don't have either of those problems.
The book and every person who knows who has had a baby says "every pregnancy is different". I believe them, but during this time when our little tax deduction is the size of a blueberry some evidence of being pregnant would be satisfying.
Over the holiday weekend I was out in the open about the pregnancy. They are a nice group of people who don't really overlap with folks in my day to day world. It was fun being "the" pregnant lady. The ladies were very excited and most everyone (girls) had to tell me their pregnancy stories. That is human nature and I'm sure I will do it too. One gal went into great detail about her pregnancy that they had to terminate at five months. (Picture me with the widest most horrified eyes as I listen.) Situations like that are rare and I didn't think but for a moment that that would happen to us, but wow! Common sense says, don't tell your 5 month miscarriage story to a newly pregnant lady, but obviously that was a traumatic experience and I'm emotionally stable enough to listen to her tell it because it made HER feel better. (See it's not all about me just yet.)
Speaking of advice, poor Chelsey has been bombarded with advice from moms and non-moms and on one hand I'm happy to take some of the pressure off of her by being another face these folks can yalk at, but on the other it is nice to sit back and watch them spew it at someone who is not me. I don't take advice well. I am one to read up and study and then I want to find my own way.
Generally, the advice I resist is mostly right on the money, but my own stubbornness and desire to "do it myself" makes it hard to take. This "lovely" side of my personality also makes it hard for those who are just trying to help. My mom has taken a lot of crap from me while trying to give me important and useful information. I'm sure this baby thing will be another situation where the amount of advice is overwhelming and I will have to remember that people aren't trying to take over, but to make our lives easier.
I'm sure my tolerance of visitors after the Blueberry arrives will be pretty high, and I will likely cry when they all go home, but be relieved to be a family of three. (Do you hear that Blueberry... three not four! We're not running a produce stand... there had better be only one of you in there or you are grounded!) The books say to set the visitation lengths before the baby arrives so no one gets there feelings hurt.
Jason and I will both get about 5 weeks off together and it would be nice for some of that time to be just us, but we'll see. I have a habit of jumping ahead. Last night we were talking about how we WILL introduce all veggies to our child even the ones that we are persnickety about. It might be a little too early to worry about forcing the Blueberry to eat broccoli. Maybe just a hair.
Speaking of... we are convinced our spawn (terrible term) will have RED hair. Both of our dads were red haired angels and we think it will sneak through our gene pool and pop out of my belly. We're prepared for people to assume we abducted our baby from Ireland.
We are spending the day Sunday with some family members and it will be the third social event in 3 weeks where I won't be sharing the wine. I think the cat will be out of the bag as soon as I open my bottle of SoBe water while they crack in to a nice Cabernet. It is fun sharing, but I am nervous about how early it is. However, the net is pretty wide at this point... come August and I'm telling everyone (including my boss!)
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