In the mornin’ when I rise, bring a tear of joy to my eyes…

So, tonight, I was goofing off at the computer by myself..
I’m home alone tonight, since boyfriend and my schedules got changed, we no longer have days off together. Plus-side? I get waay more me time, which definitely leads to ‘I miss my boyfriend, I can’t wait to see him and not be a bitch to him this time’.
Downside? We don’t have any days off together anymore and therefore no date nights, or cuddle nights, or let’s go out to eat nights…

Anyway, where was I? Oh yes. Sitting at home, alone. Doing what anyone would do in my situation. Look up pregnancy websites. (My pregnant situation, not my home alone on the internet situation. Geez… The porn watching came later.

I stumbled across yet another due date calculator/pregnancy week-by-week site. Except this time, when I plugged in my LMP, I got a day by day countdown type thing. With, what appeared to be, an in utero photo-like thing. Like real looking pictures of what a 7 week/8week/etc, old baby looked like. INSIDE.
Up until now, I’ve pretty much had only crappy drawings or computers depictions of what my baby looks like now. And I call them crappy because they don’t make it very easy for a girl, who has yet to even see as much as an ultrasound picture of her baby, to believe that it’s actually in there or to even imagine what it looks like.

This time it was all real looking. I’m coming up on week 8 on Monday (my previous calculations were way off. Again. That whole thing is so effing confusing) And a baby in utero at week 8 has a HUGE melon, but it also has like itty bitty fingers, and toes. It’s even got a sort-of nose! And –
Oh my god. I have one of those inside of me. I have one of those inside of me! Like FOR REAL. IN. SIDE. OF ME.

And I started crying.

My inability to feel much elation about the pregnancy up until now made me feel like I didn’t really want the baby. My inability to even feel like it was actually going to happen and wasn’t just some crazy awesome dream that I would wake up from or some EFF’d up version of the flu made me feel like I wasn’t really going to love my baby the way I’d always dreamed that I would love my baby.

But I cried.

I’ve even been having some trouble crying lately. Things that normally make me sad, don’t. Things that would have me crying ALL THE TIME, won’t. I just don’t cry ALL THE TIME like I used to. I thought that there was something wrong with me.

But he/she is really in there. With little fingers and toes that I am going to nibble forever once it gets here. He/she’s in there. Growing up a storm. Waiting to kick me in the rips. Waiting to come out into the world and blow us all away with how perfect he/she is.

And I cried.

I cried the happiest tears I’ve ever cried in my life. I am so happy. Scared and nervous? Totally. But totally 100% happy too.

Even now, I’m crying and I can barely see the screen. And when his/her daddy gets home in an hour or so, I’m probably going to cry again.
I love him. So much.
And he loves me.
I think he’s perfect and wonderful and amazing.
He thinks that I am perfect and wonderful and amazing.

And we made a baby together.

And I already love it so much that it makes me cry.

I know, but I didn’t then…

Wow… I’d completely forgotten about this. I wrote this before I ever knew for sure if I was actually pregnant… It was in the middle of that horrible waiting period where it’s too soon to take a pregnancy test, and there’s nothing to do but wait.

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I know, but I don’t know.
I yearn to see it
To know if it’s true.
Am I making it up?
Inside my own head?
Or could it actually be possible
To know something unsaid?

I strive to keep my hopes down.
I bury them deep.
Somewhere where I can see them rise.
And squash them before they get too high.
It’s a painful journey.
Anxiety-filled and uncertain.
Patience has never been a strength of mine.
And now I have to test it more than ever.

Hello, my precious blueberry, (Week 7…)

My beautiful Quasimbryo,

You’re as big as a BLUEBERRY this week. This is amazing, and also extremely adorable. Next week, you’ll be as big as a RASPBERRY. My own little bitty piece of rapidly growing fruit.

Your hands and feet are little paddles this week, with the beginnings of little webbed hands and feet. Eee! It’s all so cute. I can almost see you swimming around like a little tadpole in my uterus. You even have a TAIL. You have, what I’m assuming is, the beginning of eyelids? Your face is starting to form, and I can’t WAIT to see what your adorable little face is going to look like.

As for me, not much has changed. The sickness is still around. Same as last week. The heartburn comes about every night just as I’m about to get off work. The other night, I got so dizzy when I was working. Either it was the band being unbelievably loud, or I wasn’t keeping hydrated well enough, but I couldn’t get rid of it. (This also got me in trouble, but who really cares)

Other than that, on the ‘Doesn’t make me so miserable’ side, I am addicted to naps. Naps are those beautiful things that were created to make pregnant women happy. Because seriously? A daily nap is the only thing that keeps me going. If I don’t get a nap, because I slept 10 hours, instead of 8 hours with a 2 hour nap, then I get soo tired. Where’d my nap go? When is it nap time?! PREGNANT WOMAN GET VERY CRANKY WITHOUT NAP. I mean, the fatigue isn’t so great, but I looove me some naps, so I’m totally okay with sleeping.. you know.. all the time.

Daddy and I have been looking at baby names this week. For girls, of course. Because if you’re a boy, we already know what your  name is going to be.
But honestly? Your daddy and I both think we’re having a girl.
We’ve found that we can agree on like 3. And none of them are the ONE, ya know? So, we keep looking.
I suggested naming you Christmas. Cuz you’ll be born in July? And it’ll be CHRISTMAS in JULY?! HOW AWESOME IS THAT!? I know, I know. I feel your pain. But, let your father know how angry you are that your name isn’t Christmas. Believe me, he stopped listening to me a while back.

I would love to name you after my grandmother, or some version of her name. Because I love my grandmother, and you won’t really get to know her as well as I do, and you know what? I would love for you to be a legacy to how amazing my grandmother is. And if you have a fraction of the big heart that she has, or a modicum of the ability to forgive as she does, we will have done something right.

Truth is, my baby, my beautiful, amazing baby. No matter what you come out as, a boy, or a girl. A lover, or a fighter. Green eyes, or blue. You’ll be perfect. I just know it. I cannot wait to meet you in less than 8 months.

Love,

Mommy

Because I need to take a second to thank him…

I am an awfully lucky person. I am very well aware of this. I am so lucky, mainly because I have the most amazing boyfriend ever to have stepped foot on this planet.

I’m hormonal, which is to be expected. But, it’s worse that just ‘hormonal’. I feel like I’m so hormonal that I’m going through puberty again. Cuz I’m pretty sure the last time I was this big of a bitch, I was 15 and feeling the effects of PMS for the first time.

I snap. I know it’s bad, but I do. I get cranky. Easily. I get sad. Easily. I get angry and overwhelmed and scared and so unbelievably happy that I could almost cry. I am a walking hormonal basket case.

It’s awful. I try and control it by telling myself… You’re just feeling this way because you’re pregnant. It’s okay.
But sometimes? That just doesn’t work. Like, not even a little bit. Sometimes, I get so crazy that I have no IDEA how crazy I am. It’s especially dangerous to catch me when I’m hungry and/or tired. (No, if you knew me before… it’s even WORSE now. Seriously. Bitch. On. Wheels. That shoot fire out of them.)

But even through all of this… through the bitching, through the crankiness, through the snapping at him like he’s a freaking dog… through all of it, he’s been so patient. Quietly dismissing whatever it was that I said that should have offended him (*cough* pissed him right the eff off *cough*) He’s patient with my air-headedness. He’s calm and supportive. He tags along for every appointment. Even the ones that he doesn’t have to go to, and even if it means he has to get up early. He’s so sweet and calm. He’s been my rock through the whole thing. When things get too overwhelming (say, at work, when I have a awful bitch to work with and I want to do something terrible to her) He just holds me… comforts me, listens and understands. And in some extreme cases, even stands up for me.

And I love him for it. More and more every day.

Thank you, Baby. For being everything I need right now. You are so completely amazing.

And we’re back..

From the harrowing trip to the doctor’s today. Oh my gosh, I don’t know how we ever survived. Seriously.

I felt so bad for my boyfriend. I woke his sleepy ass up early (for us, noon is early) and we drug our sleepy selves down to the clinic for our First! Prenatal! Appointment! Woo! This should be good! I was oh so excited!

And, they made me pee in a cup, which I was totally prepared for. I’ve read the baby books, that was just one of the many tests they were going to run on me…
The doctor comes in, tell me “Hey, you’re pregnant” I said, “DO WHAT!?”
And she proceeds to talk to me about my pregnancy. Annnd… That was it. I just talked to her. Scheduled my next appointment, and then left. After, of course, we’d been there an hour. Aww… crap. No bueno.

I don’t know that I exactly went in to find out I was pregnant. I kind of already knew that much.

Awesome waste of a perfectly good sleepin’ day. Hopefully next time they at least try some sort of invasive tests… I want to know that my baby’s alright in there. I would just ask it, but I hear it won’t be talking for quite some time…

Anyway… that’s my news for the day.