I will warn you right now that this is really long and boring and I will still love you even if you skip it and go get a cookie instead. Especially if you bring back a cookie for me.
When I found out I was pregnant and we decided not to tell anybody, I started keeping a pregnancy journal. As it has been every time I have attempted to keep a journal, it was a really half-assed effort. Since I think my blog is going to wind up being my pregnancy journal, I wanted to add the first couple weeks so that if my child ever reads this they will have a full picture of just how crazy Mommy really is. So, in the interest of historical accuracy, I hereby present "Beth Gets Pregnant - Days 1 through 50," also known as "Boring, Tedious and Badly Written." You've been warned.
Now, where's my cookie?
Day 1: We find out I'm pregnant. Our immediate reaction is, "oh fuck." For people who were trying to get pregnant, we were awfully surprised by getting pregnant.
Day 2: I take another pregnancy test. Ok, I take three more pregnancy tests. Still knocked up. Chris spends 20 minutes on the computer. I decide this means he doesn't love me anymore and doesn't want a baby. I yell at Chris for a while and then storm out of the house to console myself with a pumpkin spice latte. I'm sure this has nothing to do with hormones. Chris has no idea what hit him, but decides to prove his dedication by buying the strangest baby naming book ever printed, which is sure to provide hours of entertainment.
Day 3: Chris starts nagging me about eating enough protein and suggests maybe I should just go ahead and start eating hamburgers. Chris also asks me when babies start eating meat. He is concerned that our unborn child will be protein-deprived at 6 months of age. I decide this means that Chris loves me after all and does want a baby. Once again, I'm sure this has nothing to do with hormones. Big achievement of the day is I only burst into tears once (during movie previews, of course).
Day 4: My first doctor's appointment. They confirm I'm still knocked up. I ask the doctor whether I have to drink milk and also when babies start eating meat. I forget all of my other actually relevant questions such as whether I should get a flu shot and whether I can keep using my super magical anti-zit potions and when my due date might be. I vow to make a list for next time. I also find out that I am 4-5 weeks pregnant because apparently they begin counting from the third time you brush your teeth after the second time you call your mother after the previous full moon or something like that. They draw blood for my first beta and I am only slightly mangled and abused in the process, which is a huge improvement from the last time. Chris experiences his first sympathy pregnancy symptom - gas. Did you guys know about the gas? Why didn't anybody tell me about the gas?
Day 5: My beta was 1145. I have no idea what that means. I asked the internet but it was no help. I have to pee every 7 minutes, but I have yet to puke so I think I'm ahead of the game. I am devoting most of my energy to not telling every single person I talk to and random people on the street and the entire internet that I am pregnant. This is a very hard secret to keep. Chris is still on his protein kick and feeding me nothing but beans and cheese.
Day 6: I slept nine and a half hours last night and I'm still tired. Not too bad though, so I'm trying not to complain. I actually feel pretty great and have almost no symptoms, which makes me happy and also worried. I am especially depressed that my boobs are still their normal size. What's the use of being pregnant if I don't get knockers? Had blood drawn for my second beta, no spurting blood fountain this time, which was nice. Was standing talking to a woman I work with who's doctor told her this morning she could go into labor at any time. Her manager walked by and pointed out that we were dressed alike and then said to me, "that's you in three years." It took all my willpower to not retort, "nope, that's me in eight months."
Day 7: Not even 9:00 and I've already cried twice. And I had been doing so well. The first time was in the car on my way to work listening to Sylvia Plath's daughter read one of her mother's poems. The second time was reading that Julie from A Little Pregnant had gotten to hold her new (and premature) baby for the first time. I have non-stop meetings all day so hoping I can turn off the waterworks and get through them. My second beta was 3061, which is apparently good. Too good, really. It is supposed to double every 48 hours and mine almost tripled in less than that. Am starting to think I may be having twins, god help me. I am totally fed up with work because all I want to do is sit around and be pregnant. Is it bad that I'm looking forward to maternity leave so I won't have to come to work?
Day 10: Chris's birthday. His last birthday before fatherhood. No pressure or anything. I had to take a nap due to the ever increasing exhaustion and zombiness. I felt bad sleeping through Chris's birthday, but it gave him time to play with his iPod guilt free. We had a family dinner - our first parental experience since finding out I was all knocked up. We still aren't telling, which is tough. We made up a big long story to explain why I'm not drinking, but nobody asked. Either they are all too polite to pry (unlikely) or they suspect the reason. I got in big trouble with Chris for changing the litter boxes. I changed them before he got up so he wouldn't have to do it on his birthday and I wore rubber gloves and washed my hands for about 30 minutes afterwards. However, I forgot to tell Chris I had done it so he did it again after dinner. Whoops.
Day 11: We decorated for Baby's First In-Utero Christmas. Mostly, this involved things that I could not touch like the lights which had a warning about lead exposure and things that Chris would not allow me to lift, like empty boxes. Chris has started not wanting me to lift anything heavier than a pencil, which is very sweet but also a little annoying. I keep telling him not to burn himself out on the taking care of me thing, because I am going to be very fat and grumpy and need the help in a few months. I'm six weeks or so at this point, which according to my handy-dandy "Here Are All the Terrible Things that Happen While You Are Pregnant" book means that I have about another 7 weeks of bone-numbing exhaustion to get through. It also means that I am about a week away from becoming a good candidate for morning sickness. I will consider myself very lucky if I stick with the sleeping and skip the puking. It is starting to seem real to me - that the reason I am so tired and my boobs hurt so much is that I have an actual 3 centimeter long parasite baby in my belly, and all that baby wants to do is sleep.
Day 12: Is it really only Day 12? It seems like I have been pregnant for three months. People keep touching me today. I think it may be that whole pregnant chick glow thing that is making me so attractive that they just can't help themselves. Either that, or they are trying to protect me from falling on my face when I fall asleep on my feet.
Day 13: Last night I had a very long and involved dream where I needed to pee but I couldn't. I finally realized that maybe I ought to wake myself up and actually go pee. I guess this is what happens when the constant need to pee meets the constant need to sleep. I don't really understand what's up with the peeing - the baby is the size of an appleseed and can't possibly be pressing on my bladder yet. Little troublemaker. My boobs are still sore but not noticeably bigger. Bitches.
Day 14: I know I shouldn't have done it, but it was a really slow morning at work and to kill time I got on Amazon and started a wishlist with baby stuff. I'm trying hard to be cautious and realistic, but time is passing so slowly it's driving me nuts. I am determined to enjoy being pregnant as much as I can, since I plan to only do it twice or so, so I am trying not to complain too much. The only problem is that I am a zombie. I can sleep 10 hours and wake up exhausted. I can't lean back in my chair at work or I will fall asleep. Bah.
Day 16: Chris picked up the cat to put her on the bed tonight and slammed her head into the footboard. I think this is an excellent indication that we are ready to be parents since everyone tells stories about dropping their kid or tripping over it or slamming its head into a brick wall. I guess this is why babies are born with soft heads and helmets. Babies are born with helmets, right?
Day 17: New wrinkle in the continuing I Am Too Tried To Function saga. I am now waking up 3 to 4 hours after going to sleep and am completely unable to fall back asleep. Still not out and out morning sickness, but I am becoming more and more queasy first thing in the morning. Now believe me, I'll take queasy over puking my guts out any day of the week, but add it to the exhaustion and the sinus problems and the killer headaches and I have definitely had more fun.
Day 19: Went to the doctor today and was assured that being exhausted is a good sign. Confirmed that I am about 7 weeks with a due date of 7/31. Also, I saw the baby. I didn't know I was going to see the baby, but since I have always had completely irregular cycles the doc did a sonogram to confirm how far along I am. The baby looks like a lima bean that somebody chewed on for a minute and then changed their mind about. Therefore, we have dubbed the baby Lima Bean until further notice. Lima Bean has a heartbeat which looked like a flashing cursor and a yolk sac which appeared to be sunny side up. Lima Bean is still too small to show up on a normal ultrasound, so the doc did a vaginal ultrasound. She was trying to reassure me about the ultrasound wand. I finally had to say "Honey, I had an HSG, remember? Your little wand doesn't scare me." I have the picture of baby Lima Bean on the fridge. It makes me cry a little to see it.
Day 22: Had to leave work early today due to exhaustion and feeling like I was going to toss my cookies all over my laptop.
Day 30: I made an offhanded comment last night about needing a Christmas tree ornament for Fetus's First Christmas, and Chris made me one and put it in my stocking. It says Lima Bean's First Christmas and includes a fairly accurate rendering of a lima bean/our baby. I cried when I saw it, but I'm pregnant so it doesn't take much to make me cry.
Day 33: So clearly I'm slacking on this whole pregnancy diary thing. A recent highlight was having to buy new bras because my old bras no longer fit. The downside is that I have spent a lot of time slamming my poor, sore boobs into things because they suddenly stick out further than usual and I haven't adjusted to my reduced clearance. Things on the name front are not progressing very well. For girls, I have ruled out the early front-runner, Emma, since every other girl born on the last 5 years is named Emma. Our Emma replacement was Amelia, which I have since ruled out because I am scared people will call her Amy. Chris ruled out Ava because of Eva Braun and Ava Gabor. Chris also will not even consider naming the baby after my grandmother, but I have to side with him on that since her name was Pearl. All we have left at the moment are Fallopia and Lur-lene. For boys, we talked briefly about naming a boy after my uncle Buck, who's real name was Eustis. I think Buck Eustis has a nice ring to it, but Chris pointed out that we are not from either Georgia or Mississippi so both of those names are probably prohibited by law. At this rate, we may end up with Lima Bean Bupkis on the birth certificate. Thank goodness we have another seven months. I've accepted ginger ale as my personal savior to combat the low-grade queasiness. I have only gained one pound, but am quickly running out of pants that fit thanks to my amazing new stomach poochiness.
Day 34: I got new boots today. I hate them. In honor of being pregnant and about to be really incredibly fat, I passed up my usual stilettos and got boots with very low, very wide heels. They are the ugliest things I have ever had on my feet.
Day 36: Missed New Year's Eve thanks to the Lima Bean, who insisted that I go to bed at 10:00. Chris very sweetly came and kissed me at midnight anyway. We bought fake champagne for the celebration, which I fell asleep without drinking, and also fake wine for dinner, which tasted like ass. My New Year's Resolution is to get very fat.
Day 39: Learned from the internets today that my pants no longer fit thanks to bloating, not because of any actual baby intervention which won't happen for a few weeks yet. I have been having random stomach pains for the last three days, which I am sure is gas but which are causing me to freak out. I keep telling myself this is normal and nothing to worry about as long as there isn't any bleeding and that even if it is something to worry about there probably isn't anything to do about it at this stage anyway so I may as well suck it up. I expect this tough attitude will last another 20 minutes or so at which point I will call my doctor and burst into hysterical tears. Four weeks seems like an awfully long time to go between appointments. I would much prefer to have a sonogram every day, just to set my mind at ease. It's going to be a long 9 months.
Day 40: I am going to have to give up yoga as my balance is all shot to hell, evidently due to hormones and other random chemicals coursing through my bloodstream. I have realized that pregnancy and childbirth is going to be one minor indignity after another so I may as well embrace it and at least be happy that I have not yet experienced the indignity of vomiting in public.
Day 41: I am gaining weight like it's going out of style. My stomach is too big for my pants so I have them unbuttoned and am just praying nobody notices. I really want to go get a cookie, but think that is a silly thing to do when I already can't button my pants. I guess it is time to resign myself to getting fatter.
Day 42: Thank god for drawstring pants.
Day 43: I had to give up my super-amazing anti-zit cream when I got pregnant. I was just thinking the other day how strange and lucky I was that I had not gotten any zits. Ha! Call me pizza face.
Day 46: I somehow convinced myself that I was having a miscarriage on the treadmill and ran hysterically for the bathroom to find nothing at all. I'm sure everyone else at the gym thinks I have the runs or something but who cares. I have an appointment tomorrow and should be hearing the heartbeat, so I hope that will put my mind at ease a bit, at least until I think of something else to worry about.
Day 47: We heard the baby's heartbeat, it was between 169 and 172 beats per minute. The doctor said that boys usually have a lower heartrate and girls usually have a higher heartrate, so either it's a boy who was doing aerobics or a girl who was just hanging out. We'll see, we'll have the sonogram in a few weeks but still haven't decided whether we want to know the sex. Chris went with me for his first-ever trip to the gynecologist. He took a breast self exam card and made horse jokes about the stirrups. I was worried he would freak out or faint during the exam, but the exam wasn't much - I even got to keep all my clothes on. I feel better knowing that everything looks good so far, but now am even more freaked out that there is something living inside me and it has its very own heartbeat.
Day 50: We are going public tomorrow - telling our parents and my brother. It's about damned time as it is becoming nearly impossible to keep this secret. We are having everyone to dinner, but haven't decided yet how we are going to tell them. I keep thinking we should have something big and creative, but we will probably end up just blurting it out. Then comes the big challenge - telling the Internets.