2004-06-10 - 3:26 p.m.
I'm doing what my sister told me to do. I'm blogging about my pregnancy. I have to tell you, though, my heart isn't in it yet. The blog, that is. I feel that taking any time at all to write about this is just an inconvenience right now. She wants me to do it, though. And I'd hate to let her down because she's so far away.
Other than feeling like I'm drunk at times, I feel okay. I get a little nauseous sometimes, but it goes away. Food, in the morning, makes me nauseous. Eating breakfast isn't something I've done for almost twenty years. I hate breakfast. It does nothing for me but make me ill and it's been like that forever. Having to force myself to eat is making me sick. I eat when I'm hungry, not because I have to. I guess it'll take a while to get used to. I prefer grazing all day long rather than set meal times. My purse is big and packed with healthy food.
Maybe I don't want to blog about my pregnancy. Because I might be honest about my feelings.
I took the day off from work today and I don't care. I will do that whenever I feel like I need to. My job is not having this baby; I am. And my boss loves and adores me because I am lovable and adorable. Besides, today was graduation practice and I wasn't up for yelling at the kids to get in line. So there. It doesn't matter. My boss loves me, anyway. He wants me to name the baby Piola. That's just plain nasty.
I think my eyes look different. I look in the mirror and I can tell. I just look different. My skin looks great, too. And I pee a lot. I can't drink Cherry Coke. The bubbles feel funny and it just doesn't taste right. The smell of a cigarette makes me queasy, but that doesn't mean I don't crave it or give in, at times. When I do give in, I take a couple puffs and I cry forever. It's not as easy as I thought it would be. Giving up coffee was easy. And I used to drink a lot of it. I mean a lot. Today, I had a small iced latte...first sip of coffee in a week. I still like coffee, though. Even a cup a day is okay if you're pregnant, but I'm not doing that. I just wish quitting smoking was easier. Like a switch you shut off. (And I don't need any lectures from a certain someone I love. Or I won't like you anymore and then I'll have no one to talk to. Believe me, I'm getting there. Just don't push it and don't be bossy, please. It's just harder than I thought it would be. That's all.)
I wish my sister lived here. I could just be with her forever. She understands, she gets it, and she's not making me feel bad. She hasn't made me cry once...yet.
I will continue to blog for her benefit, since she's not here. Maybe one day I'll share it all with my baby.
I want this to be the most wonderful time in my life, not the worst.
When will we all get used to me being pregnant? After it's all over? I guess it's as much an adjustment for my family as it is for me. I didn't think it would be.
P.S. For what's it's worth, I told my husband I knew exactly when it happened. And he told me he knew, too. Isn't that weird? We both kinda knew what we'd just done. Yikes!
