Tuesday, April 29, 2008
Wednesday, April 23, 2008
Tuesday, April 22, 2008
I am just so pissed at the unfairness of the situation. He's half the reason this stupid baby exists. He should have to deal with half of the nastiness. I just want to punch him in the head and tell him to knock it off. Get some sympathetic morning sickness or something, asshole. It would make me feel better. So would drinking an ice cold Diet Coke.
Last night, I came to the realization that I suck at trusting myself. I am incapable of making life decisions. I end up hating every major decision I make. No matter what it is, it always seems like a good idea at the time, but a week or two later, I'm second guessing and pissed at myself because I'm unhappy with my choice. This happens with everything from my college major to going to law school to my wedding dress...the list goes on and on. The only major decision I've ever been happy with is marrying B. Most days anyway. (Just kidding, babe. You know I love you).
I don't know how to fix this or where it comes from, which bothers me. I would like to get over it. I need some confidence in the decisions I make, or I'm going to be driving myself crazy forever.
Thursday, April 17, 2008
The party was Saturday. Sunday morning, I woke up with a scratchy throat, but didn't really think anything of it. It was a little worse on Monday morning. Normally, when I feel like that, I'll grab my Airborne and Zicam and spend two or three days pumping so many vitamins and minerals into my body that the little cold viruses are beaten into submission. Not possible when you're pregnant, though, so I drank some OJ and went on my merry way. By Tuesday morning, I had a full-blown cold.
Usually, a cold isn't a big deal, but right now, I can't do anything to make it better. If you've ever had a cold and just not treated it (or had one while pregnant), you know what I'm talking about. It sucks. The only things you're allowed to use as "treatment" are saline nasal spray (worthless), salt water gargle (makes me barf), steam, and hot tea (decaf, of course). Non-medical remedies blow. I just want to be able to breathe again. It's not asking much, really.
Moral of the story: Pregnancy colds suck, and I would give my left nut for a couple of Advil Cold & Sinus.
Monday, April 14, 2008
The second appointment went well. The baby was wiggling around a lot, and the doctor said it looked good. We got another ultrasound because the doc didn't want to waste time trying to find the heartbeat on the doppler. I didn't complain about that at all. I got another picture of the bebe, too, but it's not very good. There were other shots that were much better, but this is the one she printed. You wouldn't know it by looking at this pic, but I swear it actually looked like a real baby in the other shots.
The doc also finally gave me a due date. November 5. It's a week later than my self-figured, internet-searched due date of October 28. We know the day baby was conceived (TMI, sorry), so I feel a little more comfortable with the October 28 date, especially since I was just finally figuring out the whole weeks thing. I may just stick with that. When I'm not around my doctor, of course.
Additionally, my second OB appointment is this afternoon. I don't know why, but I always (I say "always" like it's happened more than twice before in my life) get really nervous before my appointments. I'm hoping that might stop after this one, since I'll be out of the first trimester and ostensibly "safe" after that. I'll update about the appointment this evening.
Monday, April 7, 2008
So, I went to the store, found the Queasy Drops (which were on clearance for $1.98. Score! Though, that should have been my first clue...), bought a couple of bottles, and ate one as soon as I got to my car. Besides the fact that it tasted like crap (ginger flavored candy = nasty!), it didn't do much for me. I thought maybe that was just a fluke, and the tastier ones would work better. I'm such a sucker (no pun intended) when I get my hopes up.
After a full day of Queasy Drop usage, I've discovered that these candies absolutely live up to their name - they don't do anything other than make me feel queasy. I should have known. Sugary foods have been making me feel like puking recently. I don't know why I thought the anti-nausea candy would be any different.
Moral of the story: Anything with a name like "Preggie Pops" is for gullible pregnant women, and won't really do you any good. And Queasy Drops = instant nausea. What a waste of $1.98.
Saturday, April 5, 2008
I was so, so wrong.
I went shopping with a friend who already has two little monsters...er...bundles of joy...of her own, and she urged me to try the pants on. She told me it would be worth it. She's such a pusher. But I caved anyway. I tried them on, and I liked them. That stretchy-waisted denim was one of the most comfortable things I have ever put on. They felt like sweatpants, but looked cute like jeans. Never mind that the ridiculously high waistline made me feel like a geriatric male. So, I walked out of the dressing room and bought the pants. They were only $17. That's half the price of a pair of regular jeans. How could I pass a deal like that up?
Later in the afternoon, after I had squeezed myself back into my restrictive normal jeans, my friend tells me I should just wear the pants when we go out to dinner. To be fair, I may have asked if it would be ok to wear them, you know, in the interest of science, to see if they really were more comfortable than my normal jeans. Either way, I eventually put them on, but couldn't quite bring myself to take the tags off. That makes it so permanent. After being ridiculed for walking around like an idiot with tags hanging off my hip, I took them off. I did it. I committed myself to 6 months of maternity clothes. And it felt good.
Despite the progress I've made in accepting my elasticized panel fate, I'm still not ready for the inevitable total wardrobe overhaul. I'm only 11 weeks along, and barely sporting more than a little bloated pooch. I don't need those pants. Well, maybe I do. Just a little.
Tuesday, April 1, 2008
If I weren't pregnant, I would totally diagnose myself as having some sort of disordered eating issues. But, I suppose constantly obsessing over food is better than constantly obsessing about whether the baby's ok. Oh, wait, I guess I've been doing that, too...