In my mind I am hopeful and excited and still trying to figure out how our 2% chance manifested itself in a positive pregnancy test. My body, on the other hand, is reacting to the rise in hormones. While completely normal, it is totally abnormal for me to hate eating and sleeping. Two activities which have been dumped on their heads.
At first, it was a comforting novelty to be sick. After a day of cramping, some spotting, and nightly dreams about bleeding, every day that I puke is another day I'm still pregnant. I told my husband I would be sick every day until the baby gets here, so long as the baby gets here. Yeah, that lasted all of two weeks. I'm a wuss. What do you want? Not like you're sympathetic.
Are you sick?
It looks like an alien. It feels like an alien. So I have lovingly dubbed my belly creature Wall-e. My mom is horrified that the nickname might stick. I can tell you it probably will.
I don't want to be a whiny, pregnant chick. Really. I can't be. I hate whiny and pregnant, remember? 2% Mayor. 2%. That's not even a snowball's chance in hell, so shut up and be grateful. I prayed for this. I watched my daughter pray for this. But jeez puking wears you down!
Sick of being sick I left work early yesterday and on the way home made a phone call and left a message. "Can I be bitchy and grateful at the same time?"
The answer was...
She didn't pick up, but ten minutes later I got a phone call from my maternal nursing mentor and good friend. Her DIL and my due dates were a week or so apart.
"We lost the baby yesterday. She'll go in today.... You take care of yourself... I'm still praying for you.... We've got to get one of these babies here."
Oy. How did I forget why I hate whiny and pregnant?
Wall-e is alive and well and I am back to being grateful to dry-heave while driving.