Soooo...the last couple posts.
Yeah, about those.
#1: Our roadtrip to Cleveland/New York in June when Fetus Fleming decided to conceive him/herself [more info re: HOW DAT HAPPENED?]...
Two posts in 5-6ish months, which is totes not my style.
But there's a little explanation for the famine:
Super shockingly, pregnancy is a finicky game.
Now that I'm actually cookin' a bun in the oven, I guess I'll admit that I've baaaasically been stoked for marriage and baby-making and pregnancy and motherhood and all things baby bump since I was like ... seven years old? Maybe eight. And in college, I went through this rulllll bad all-consuming mommy fever stage that required my very best friend to regularly snuggle me under his shoulder and give me pep talks about how important it is to make it through college and earn a degree...and THEN get a job and THEN find a husband and THEN start working on the twelve babies. Priorities. Life goals. Luckily he always kept mine in check even though he had to be about 110% uninterested in growing/birthing a child...
Fast forward a few years and let me just say one thang: my college self can throw its cute little head back and let out an evil, full-bellied cackle because I had NO IDEA back then [or ever, or even in the beginning of June when I was still non-preggers] how a 1mm-long fertilized egg could rock my world. It rocked it real hard.
So...
An abbreviated timeline of first trimester:
4w1d -- I pee on a stick [because 4w0d might've been too soon?] and...ooooh baby...positive! [Not like completely pissing my pants or anything because a) just wasted it all on the stick, and b) kinda nervous about everything that happened the first time... BUT, still excited of course...]
Brian was out of town on a work trip, so all this cliche decor was lovingly left around the house for him to discover when he came home...
Bump pics at 4w and 5w and 6w, because obviously it's already growing and showing. [Ha...ha...ha...slow laugh...] And also, I'm the only pregnant person that ever existed and every minute detail .had.to.be.documented. for all of the world to see and awe over forever and ever amen.
All was joyous and merry in the motherhood world until 7w came along, then bing bam boom. Dreams immediately shot down as bulimic-style around-the-clock cyclical puking ensued. Brian tried to be sweet and soothing and make it all better, but nothing made it better...
...not even one soda cracker or Zofran q8 or IVs. Or ANYTHING.
Bridget's the name, growing a feisty embryo's the game. Although probablyyy no one cares about how much of a HOT HOT pukey MESS I was. But really, four months is a long @$$ time to feel like you have the world's worst case of the stomach flu or are maybe even dying of some kind of terminal illness. [Minor pity party earned.] I ate like a bird and puked like a turkey vulture and mostly just laid on the couch 24/7 trying to sleep a lot and not move at all. [Sweet Brian told me one time that I looked like a fetus all curled up in a ball with a huge head and a small body. Love him!] And when I had to go to work, I strictly avoided two things: getting stuck in the OR behind a face mask [use your imagination?] and using any of the automatic flush toilets [use your imagination again]. Bah. Gross.
I'll spare you all the other juicy details.
Then all the sudden, the 20-week mark came along and two miracles happened: I stepped on the scale and was 12 pounds lighter + the puking vanished. Hallelujah, there IS a God after all!!!
The end. [...of first trimester, at least...]
If you're brave enough, I might be penning a PARTE DOS all about the fun times in week 14 and beyond....... Come on back in a few days for some more preggo fun fun fun!
