12/28/2010 - BEautiful!

Well folks, I did it. I went out and got me a Be Band. For those of  you who don't know what it is, the Be Band is a stretchy piece of fabric, like a HUGE headband, that goes over the waist band of your pants and allows you to wear them, wait for it, UNBUTTONED. I'm sure by next Thanksgiving these babies will be flying off the shelves for all the over eaters out there. Why did I never think of this?? Anyway, I was fighting it. Hard. "I mean, PLEASE! I can still button my jeans" I'd say as I'm writhing on the floor trying to make the top button clasp only to sit up and feel as if I was about to spontaneously miscarry. No thank you. So I got the fat girl expander. Very exciting. Now I can breathe deeply from a seated position and feel the waistband strrrrrrrrretch! Ah, comfort!
My newest pic...

HOLY CRAP, right? My gut now sticks out more than my ribcage? Fantastic. And before you go saying "You can hardly tell!" (some of you are thinking "I wasn't about to say that) I will remind you what week 6-ish looked like...

Do you see the abs I actually had? Now come on and cry with me. The worst part is, I'm not showing enough that it looks like I'm pregnant. Right now it just looks as if I eat too much pasta and I'm TELLING you this morning when I went to Starbucks and got a blueberry scone (460 calories people, I know), the man next to me glanced at my gut. Sweet Husband says I'm nuts but it happened.
Speaking of SH, we just got back from visiting his brother and sister-in-law in Maui, where we spent our Christmas holiday. Sun, surf and snorkeling! Wanna hear what rained on my parade? Well, aside from missing out on tropical libations, my sister-in-law is 9 months pregnant and due ANY DAY now. Looking at her just made me realize how far I have to go, not to mention the fact that she looked at a 12 week pic of herself and said "I have no memory of being that small". Does the cruelty ever end?
On a more positive note, I feel as if someone has flipped a switch and I'm miraculously back to *almost* normal. Nausea only happens when I haven't eaten (or discuss chicken or spinach) and puking is a thing of the past (except for the 50 yard dash I did while dining sea side in Hawaii - I wish I could blame the food but it hadn't arrived yet). I no longer need a 2 hour nap in the middle of the day (so far, although I did sleep quite a bit on my beach chair), and I got through a two hour workout last night without having to stop ONCE! Sweet action!
Okay, here are the Blogger details as many of you have been asking me. Blogger will not email you every time I post something, you just have to check in whenever you think about it. Also, all of my posts can be read by looking over to the right (go ahead! Look!) and under Blog Archive it has all of my posts from the past. Click on any of them to read. And people, if you read this with any regularity, please FOLLOW me. I have 6 followers which is utterly pathetic and I know there are a whole bunch of you out there. Give a girl a break. I might have a hormonal swing any second now and you don't want to be on the receiving end.
Off to teach kickboxing...fingers crossed!

12/16/2010 - Surely you jest

I have not announced to any of my agents that I am "in the family way" as of yet because I feel like any "showing" I am doing here can easily be camouflaged by an empire-wasted top. I think you can't REALLY tell if I'm in clothes (and Sweet Husband is the only one who sees me WITHOUT clothes and he already knows), so who cares, right? Maybe this is just what I'm telling myself. I figure I'll spill the beans around month 4 or 5 when I need to start being cast for Pampers commercials, which I will totally embrace.
Two days ago I got a call from my theatrical agent (this means TV and movies if you aren't an aficionado on industry jargon) saying I have an audition for one of the CSI's and, if I get cast, I will need to be in a skirt and a bra as I am being held captive by a rapist. I know what you're thinking, "My god? A rape scene?? While you're pregnant!?" Know what my thought was? A BRA???!! I totally panicked, ran to the nearest mirror and threw my shirt up. Staring at my bulging belly and love handles that have recently appeared I say "Uh, yeah. Okay, sure." Jesus CHRIST! So I go to the audition in a super loose skirt and white tank and as soon as I walk into the room with the casting director, I suck my gut in as hard as I can (not an easy feat when something is actually IN there) and do my scene, praying he doesn't see the flab-alanche. However, once I leave I'm struck with the horror of WHAT IF I DO BOOK THIS? It doesn't shoot until after Christmas! Surely I'll be bigger then and without a shirt, how can I suck it in? What a disaster! I mean please!!! WHAT casts between Christmas and New Years?? This is an outrage.
I've decided today that I will seek out a dietitian to deal with this matter head-on. So if any of you know of a good one, leave the info here. My flabby thighs thank you. And before any of you hop on the bullshit bandwagon about "You are forming another human! You are not flabby, you are pregnant! That baby needs extra calories!" let me be the first to tell you, I don't want to hear it (and btw, babies need 300 extra calories, not 1,000). My actual baby bump is hardly even there. What IS there is the load of crap I've been shoveling down my throat to attempt to calm my nausea and get food to STICK. And it has stuck all right. Between my inactivity (napping almost every day) and eating food reminiscent of a stoner, it has stuck. But it's about to be unstuck.
I'll post a photo when I can bear it.
Genetic testing tomorrow. I'll post if it's really a child or some strange gilled creature created from my martini bender the weekend before I found out I was pregnant.
Over and out!

12/12/2010 - Resurrection of the Ejection

Just when I thought it was over! "I heard morning sickness goes away or AT LEAST gets better after the first trimester" say many well-meaning females, almost always adding "I never experienced morning sickness MYSELF, but that's what I've heard". Mmm...
I've moved on from the crackers upon waking (people, listen. Stop telling me to eat crackers. The mouth is SO very dry when you wake up. YOU eat a god damn cracker while laying down and see how well it goes for you! Hello choking hazard!) and moved on to Del Monte's delicious little fruit cups. Peaches! Pears! Mandarin oranges! Yum! Well, the other day I did not eat the cup that I keep by my bed, instead I got up and walked into the kitchen feeling fabulous. I opened the fridge and fetched a nice cold tropical fruit mix. The colors peeking through the clear cup enlivened my mood. Pink! Yellow! White! Gorgeous! I carefully peeled back the plastic covering, scooped up a spoonful of delightful fruit and placed it into my mouth. One chomp down on the tropical medley flipped my stomach, made my eyes roll back into my head and had me turning violently into the sink to barf up a nice medley of my own. After retching for what seemed like an eternity (especially since, let's be honest, I didn't actually CONSUME any of this food or anything else since 7pm the night before) I slid down my cabinets, drew my knees into my chest and cried for a solid five minutes. It was then I realized that I've completely forgotten what it's like to feel normal. To feel SO normal that you wake up and don't even think about how you feel. Where the smell of food is always enticing, eating is a joyful and fulfilling experience, your lower stomach doesn't feel like it's being pushed out from the inside, your bowels aren't constantly in a knot and the only time you experience nausea is after a particularly fun night doing body shots off some hot Mexican guy at the nearby El Torito. I have no fabulous memories of last night because I passed out cold around 8:59pm. Eating is always disgusting and guess what else? My back now hurts.
After avoiding a bikini wax for WAAAAY too long (thank you Sweet Husband for not making Chewbacca noises every time I exited the shower), I forced myself to go yesterday afternoon. We're heading to Maui for Christmas (don't be too jealous...no umbrella drinks, no barely-there bikinis...or a body for which to fit one on, for that matter) and I can NOT go with 70's bush, period. So, I made an appointment and off I went. Let me tell you something. I have no idea if your skin is supposed to be more sensitive while you're pregnant, but ladies DO NOT WAX ANY AREA YOU CONSIDER TO BE PRIVATE WHILE YOU ARE PREGNANT. Oh my god I have never IN MY LIFE experienced pain as bad as this. I was sweating, tears were rolling down my cheeks and I was moments away from confessing every horrible secret I've ever had just to make the torture stop.  I literally walked out of the salon as if I had been riding a wild stallion for DAYS. And when I got home, upon further inspection, it looked as though bees had been let loose on my lady parts and some kind soul had attempted to save me by swatting them off with a wooden spoon. I had chills for hours. I may never be the same.

12/8/2010 - Motel 6

Lemme tell you what I find the MOST sucky. Yeah, barfing was really bad, the nausea and headaches...but actually having to think of someone else before you make a decision for yourself BLOWS. For instance, Monday night I was teaching class. That day was especially grueling as I had to teach 4 classes (cardio/Pilates fusion, boot camp, a high-intensity weight lifting class and kickboxing, in that order). In class 3 I started to feel faint and vomity. Big time. Normally, I'd muscle through no big deal. But do you know what happened? I started thinking about this paragraph I read in some book about exercising when pregnant and how, due to weight lifting, this woman tore her uterine wall and was on bed rest for a month! A MONTH?! O-M-G! No way. Is that even real? Can that even happen? I scoffed when I read it, but now it's implanted on my brain. What to do? DAMN IT! I decided to pull way back to finish the class.
Then this morning, after a particularly crappy night of sleeping, I woke up feeling god awful. Feverish (no fever, says my $5 thermometer), nauseous, major headache. I had two classes to teach this morning. As I started getting dressed, Sweet Husband called. "You need to find someone to take your classes. You can't push it." and I knew he was right. WHAT KIND OF LIFE AM I LIVING?? Since WHEN do I sub out my classes at the gym because of feeling a little lill? Since WHEN do I lift light to no weight in a power lifting class? Since when do I pee myself when I jumprope??? SINCE WHEN!? Also, I'd like to mention, when I jump up and down now, it grosses me out in a big way. It feels like I have a small water balloon in my belly, just below my navel. It's just in there, bouncing around and making me gag. Sick.
On to other news, I have to finish up my genetic testing with a TWO AND A HALF HOUR sonogram session. Say WHAT now? Our baby better be hosting a kegger in there (then again that would require more than one fetus...unless he/she is a "drinks alone" kind of baby, in which case I've got bigger problems) because I am going to be bored to TEARS! SH has been bugging me to come along on doctor visits, so I said this one he could come to. Then he finds out about the time and goes "uhhh..." HA! Perfect.
My stomach continues to bulge but luckily my jeans still fit. I think my boobs have stopped growing, which is quite a drag.

12/4/2010 - A Cup, here I come!

Well, again. It's been a while. My parents were in town for a spell and then I got a bad case of the lazies and didn't care to write about anything. I'm growing a human here people, piss off.
Anywho, check out the start of my pot belly! Lord HELP us! The good news (I know! Didn't you guys think I would just bitch the whole time? Silver lining!) is that I can now fit quite snugly into an A-cup bra *applause*! Thank you! A few months back I was hit with the realization (and a sales girl at Nordstrom armed with a measuring tape) that I wasn't the A I always thought I was, but in fact, I was a AA. For you large-breasted women who didn't realize an AA cup can be MADE for adults, I'm here to rock your world. I bought a ton of them. Also downgraded to an XS sports bra and voila! Perfect fits. Now, I'm spilling out. Can you "spill out" when you're clocking in at a whopping AA? Yes you can, bitches. Yes you can.
The nausea isn't totally in check, though the puking has slowed down to barely noticeable. However, this week I neglected to eat for 4 hours (this means something) and was so sick by the time I did eat that I ended up going straight to bed and skipping dinner only to wake up and feel extra awful the next day as well. How wonderful.
Went to the doctor this past Thursday and they said I only gained 1/2 of a pound, which can't POSSIBLY be correct! Again, I'll refer you to the above picture and below-the-button protrusion, but whatever. I saw the little olive (maybe it's a Brazil nut now) flip over and kick what I believe was some sort of leg protrusion. Very surreal. I had a litany of tests done to see where we stand as far as development and retardation (need I mention my luck here?) and will hear back in a week or so.
Now, on to the bitching. Why in the WORLD does everyone now feel free to tell me how to properly run my life? Have I not been at this exact task my entire adult life? Aren't I still standing here before you? Able bodied and healthy (kind of)? Then WHY start now?
"Oh no! You can't work out!!" My doctor says it's fine.
"Wait! Don't lift that it's heavy!!!" In response to a 6# box after I taught a class that required me to squat a 50# bar.
"You can't adopt now! You'll never be able to handle two kids. You don't even know what you're in for!" My personal favorite.
"You HAVE to let your husband in the room when you give birth." You are welcome to give birth in the middle of Times Square ON that goddamn sparkly ball during the NYE countdown. I'll give birth around whom I choose.
"You need to find out the sex. You need to go shopping before the baby gets here!" How did we ever survive in gender-neutral clothing???
LISTEN UP PEOPLE. I'm sure you mean well. Good for you for trying to get a fine deed done for humanity today! But I am not interested in your opinion or what you think about my choices or my lifestyle. When I am looking for your opinion I will start my sentence with "Hey, I'd like to get your opinion on this..." Until that day comes, kindly shut the hell up.
That's all for today!
Snuggles!

11/21/2010 - What are vegetables again?

I realize I haven't posted in almost a week, which is über lame. But, to be honest, I haven't had any  embarrassing vomit stories. No matter, I shall forge ahead!
I have been so extremely picky about what I eat lately and I'm eating like a 14 year old boy with a hang over. Potato everything, quesadillas, burgers, cheese crackers, you name it. If it's a carb, I'm in all the way. Which is really disgusting for someone who watches almost EVERYTHING I put in my mouth. I make sure I have plenty of protein a day (103g), my carbs are limited (under 160g) and my fiber is off the charts (30g minimum)...until this happened. The problem, as I have mentioned before, is not CRAVINGS, necessarily. It's not like I wake up and think "If I don't eat a cheese cracker, I will go on a shooting rampage". Not at all. I wake up and think "What am I able to eat today that is healthy?". I go through a list, starting with proteins "Chicken, fuck no. Beef? Yuck. Peanut butter...nah, I heard my child will be born with terrible peanut allergies. Eggs? Not sure. Protein powder...perhaps" and that is how I go through the rest of my day. I choose foods based on their likelihood of staying put and not making me whirlingly nauseous for the rest of my waking hours. The foods listed above (quesadillas, burgers, cheese crackers) are some of the only things I can physically choke down. And you just guess what's happening. I'm beginning to resemble a large adult walrus, minus the tusks but certainly plus the whiskers. I'm trying to blame it on the fact that I'm somehow beginning to "show" (at 10-ish weeks, mind you) but even I don't buy it. This sucks hard.
I've also read that the boob tenderness should have gone away by now, but OH no. I woke up this morning to my cat, Captain Tuffy, walking over my boobs with such purpose that I actually punched his ass and started crying. That's how my Sunday started.
I'll take a picture of this fat belly soon. I'm sure you're just dying to see it.
Oh, how the mighty have fallen.....

11/15/2010 - Did somebody say martini??

Just in case you aren't following each painful moment of my pregnancy (and why would you? Your life is chugging along normally! Lucky you), I am now entering Week 9. Since I feel I really learned dick about all of this in Health class, I'm following along with a website that tells you what to expect week by week. On that topic, pardon me, WHEN were we told our body hair grows like the Chia Grass on the Chia Pet commercial? Did someone ever mention that you can no longer hug like a human being because your boobs are so sore you think they might pop? *sigh*
This week, my little tic tac is developing an anus. Very handy! But what I found most interesting is that the size of the lil' thing was likened to a martini olive! OMG! I just hope it's bleu cheese stuffed. Before this "blessed" event, Sweet Husband and I would have Martini Sunday. Sometimes friends would stop by, sometimes we'd be alone, but we'd ALWAYS have one too many and be really mad Monday morning. In fact, I almost completely forgot martinis were ever invented! Now the thought of alcohol of any sort (also coffee, broccoli and orange juice) makes me dry heave. Awesome!
I've also decided that I am going to hate any person who just adores their pregnancy. I recently heard someone say "I keep a journal on the kitchen counter for my husband and I to record our feelings throughout the day. Then we can discuss them later AND have a pregnancy journal all at the same time!" ARE YOU KIDDING ME?? Listen, I love SH and all, but I'm not overly concerned as to what HE'S feeling right now. I'm sure it's something like this "Holy shit, 8 more months of this? Shutting down..."
Yeah, it's just so beautiful, isn't it? From the inability to crap, to leg hair you can braid 3 hours after shaving, to barfing in the gym toilet (Friday!), this really is the best time in my life. Beats the hell out of the time I streaked down 2 blocks of a crowded Chicago street  on a dare, or saw the Parthenon for the first time in person, or moved into my very first apartment. This certainly beats it all.

11/10/10 - Attack of the Bitch Monster

Well gang, today is the first day that I have woken up feeling almost human. No nausea (slight nausea), no headache, no dizziness, check it! But you know what happens when you wake up feeling good? The Bitch Monster takes over your body. I have threatened to kill more people today (in my head) than ever before. The guy who (I feel) parked too close to me in the Target parking lot, the old woman who took a life time to fill up her way-too-big-for-an-old-lady van at the Costco Pump, and the man who insisted he'd wait in the alley for me to park my car instead of going around me and getting the hell out of my face. Oh yes, and there was the lady who jumped 100 feet and screamed "Ok, ok, ok!" when she SAW my dog off a leash in the grass in front of our house. My dog who is a kind hearted labrador. My dog who didn't even know she existed. My dog who didn't even come close to her. I should tell you, I used to be scared to death of dogs. Did I react with compassion? No. You know what I yelled "Get over it!". Get over it??? OMG! Are you KIDDING me?? Where is this coming from.
It probably didn't help that I started my morning out teaching two classes, both of which were full of people straight out of the Twilight Zone. Let me highlight! The first class was a weightlifting/cardio combination class. As we transitioned into jumprope about 5 people take a seat on their benches as if they're staging some sort of sit-in and one woman (who came in late and didn't have the proper equipment) starts wandering around class asking people if she can just have their jumprope, including me. What? The second class is a mind/body cardio class. Lights are off, peaceful music is on and we're moving. Two girls in the front are talking SO loud I can hardly hear myself. Some dude in acid washed jeans bounces in and starts talking to one of my members as if it's now social hour at the Elk's Club. One girl decides she's had enough and takes a seat against the wall and begins FILMING the class with her cell phone. This is not just me today gang. The Bitch Monster came out for SURVIVAL, I tell you!
Oh, I've also decided I'll post pictures as the weeks tick by so everyone can see just how quickly the Tic Tac is ruining both my life and my body.
Enjoy!

11/8/2010 - It can't get any better than this

Sweet Husband called from work to remind me that we have very little, if any, food in the house. Not in an asshole kind of way, just in a "I'm eating Saltines and walnuts for lunch, something's gotta give" kind of way. Which is totally true. I haven't been to the grocery store in at least two weeks, which is terribly uncharacteristic of me. I usually pop in at least three times a week, but ever since I've been feeling like a I've had the flu and just stepped off the the Tilt-A-Whirl, I haven't been up for the grocery store. The smells in that place alone would kill me. I'm hardly eating anything at this point anyway, so the food shortage kind of went unnoticed. Anyway, I decided to take one for the team and head to the grocery this afternoon to get the bare minimum (lunch meat and bread and cereal will last SH for weeks). The effort felt tremendous. Pushing a cart, attempting to smile at strangers who passed me in the aisle, locating the right coupons upon check out...exhausting. So I finished my purchase and headed out to my car. As I exited and crossed the road, my stomach flip-flopped. "No, no" I think "You never throw up at 3:30! No, no. Just breathe." I hurry. When I got to my car I notice there is a fire truck parked two spaces away from me and hot, I mean HOT, firemen are exiting. Afraid that I look as horrible as I feel (no makeup, crappy clothes, hair is a mess), I try and hurry my packages into the backseat of my car when the throw up decides it can no longer wait. I brace myself against my car, slam the back door shut and squat as low as I can, hoping I can actually fit under my car and go unnoticed. Not so. As I empty the contents of my stomach (one baked potato, which actually looks like a slimy version of Thanksgiving mashies at this point), the hot, hot men walk by. Do they ignore? Hell no. "Oh man! Ma'am, are you okay??" The silver haired one rushes over while the others stand and stare. I try to say "yes, thank you" as if what I'm doing is totally in the spectrum of normal behavior, when another wave hits and I barf onto the asphalt yet again. Mortified I give a thumbs up and then wave them away. They reluctantly step away and walk slowly toward the store. I stay down until they are out of sight, hop in my car and race off crying.
Now here's the kicker. What in the hell do you do with throw up in a parking lot? I can't clean that up without a hose. I mean, I'm with you, it sucks for the next person who scores my spot, but what was I to do? I feel really bad, but the chances of me ever showing my face there again are pretty slim at this point.
This whole food business is not at all what I thought. I figured I'd be having ferocious cravings for home baked chocolate chip cookies in the middle of the night, or demand ice cream for every meal. I dreamt about looking my loving husband in the eye and announcing that if there wasn't a large slice of chocolate frosted cake in front of me in five minutes, somebody would get hurt. It's not like that at all. Food is categorized into two sections with me. The first, things I ABSOLUTELY can not eat under any circumstances: cooked spinach (especially of the creamed variety), chicken of any sort, lemon dressing, onions, Thai food (that sucks), most cooked vegetables, etc. The second category contains foods I can eat without barfing immediately. This list includes; cheese, bread products of any kind, bananas, apples and applesauce, corn tortillas, any fruit soda (something I wouldn't come 100 feet from before pregnant), eggs (only if over easy), etc. After I eat any of these "okay" foods, I'm immediately ill and wish I could just stop eating all together. Where is the love for pickles and ice cream??? French fries with chocolate sauce (that just made me gag)??? What kind of raw deal IS this??
But it's comforting to know, as I sip the last lukewarm remnants of my hot tea, that somewhere out there I will be the funny story told around the dinner table at the fire house.
Pregnancy rocks!

11/7/2010 - Background

After reading my previous posts, Sweet Husband has suggested I give some background information in case, in the future, people who do not know me start to follow me. Those of you who know me personally can skip to the bottom.
I work as an actor and a group exercise instructor at a local gym. So when I refer to work followed by the word class, it's usually about the gym. I teach 8 classes a week and pick up a few here and there if needed. Imagine if you will the world's worst hangover. Just opening your eyes sets the room a-spinnin'. Now imagine that room is filled with 30 faces that are looking to you to give them a good workout. And now, please, work out for 60-120 minutes. That's how going to work is for me lately.
Before this whole mess started, Sweet Husband and I had decided we wanted to adopt. We definitely want children, but as I have stated before, I just didn't want to have them. We had found an organization that works directly with DCFS (Department of Children and Family Services) and had entered the Fost/Adopt program when I got the blessed news that my life was officially over. Southern California Foster Family and Adoption Agency, or SCFFAA, requires that perspective adoptive parents enroll in 24 hours of training to become certified foster parents. This is broken down into three 7-hour classes and one 3 hour class. After becoming certified, if a child becomes available for adoption (by the court terminating the parental rights of the birth parents), you are allowed to move forward and adopt if you so desire.
And before anyone asks, YES, we are still going through with the classes and the eventual fost/adopt, we just have to figure out a new time line for ourselves. The news of the Tic Tac (this is my fetus for all who haven't read the previous posts) did not deter us in the least. Adoption we want, adoption we will have!
*sigh*
I guess that's it with the background info. If there's something else you need to know, just ask.
Now, on to today!
Woke up the same as ever, except this time was served cinnamon Life (dry, thank you) in bed before a toe even hit the floor. When it did, the same feelings were with me. Headache, nausea, dizziness. Imagine eating a meal, not too filling but not tiny either. You expect it to land in your stomach and stay there for an hour or two before making it's departure through the rest of your digestive tract and leaving you feeling hungry, yes? Well when I eat, the food lands in the soft part of my throat and stays put for HOURS. Go ahead and take your finger to your neck. Find your esophagus and slide that finger down until it resides in the soft little hole at the base of your neck between your collar bones. THIS is where my food sits. Does it ever hit my stomach? I'm not sure. I can't really remember when in the past 5 weeks that I haven't felt the food sitting right there. Divine, I tell you. Simply divine.
Today, I was booked to shoot a scene for a new web series. Off I went. I made sure to eat a little something before I went so that my throat was good and full and I wouldn't have to find anything there to choke down. I arrived at set a few minutes before lunch and went into makeup. Soon the AD came in to call lunch. "It's good today! We have El Pollo Loco!"
OH...MY...GOD. Chicken is one of the many things that sends me straight to the kitchen sink. I can't talk about it. I can't look at it and I sure as hell can't smell it! As I cautiously walked out of the makeup room, the smell of dead, roasted bird hit me like a fist to the face. Immediately I gagged (trying to hide it in my shirt sleeve) and ran (well, walked fast) out of the house. Try doing THAT while looking professional and avoiding any questions! I had to stay outside for the entirety of lunch just to make sure the smell had dissipated. So chalk that up to the list! There are now foods I can't even be in the same room as (cooked spinach...OMG)!
This sure is fun.

11/5/10 - No throw up makes for angry body

I've learned a lesson today. Notice I didn't say "valuable" because I'm not sure there is much value to any of this, but a lesson all the same. When you DON'T throw up in the morning (at exactly 7:59am like every other morning and then again sometimes at 9:30 and 11am) you are more nauseous throughout the day than ever! Isn't THAT fun!?
This morning I had to wake up at 5:30. Fabulous, indeed. When I turned over to hit the alarm on my bedside table, my stomach tumbled as if I was in the forecabin of a ship during rough seas AFTER I had been blindfolded and spun around a few times. My head immediately began to ache and my intestines, which haven't seen any action in over three days (I'd like everyone to know that before this, I was so regular you could set a clock to my movements), found a fun little way to knot themselves into a painfully tight wad. I thought, could I die from being, literally, full of crap? Was today the day that I would actually throw up poop?? Sweet Husband brought me another banana in an attempt to soothe my nausea. Once I got up and walked around, I felt even worse. Running multiple times to my kitchen sink only to hear my body laughing at me "Ha ha! Gotcha!"
Around 8 I realized nothing had come up yet. Could this be? I was skeptical and kept near to the kitchen. The closest thing I got to a full on vomit sesh was a cougheave. Not familiar with that? Well, gosh, aren't you lucky! I wasn't either before this mess began. See, a cougheave is where you begin to have a normal cough and the tensing of your stomach muscles signals your body that it must be time to throw up! What else are stomach muscles good for except throwing up, right? So then you dry heave, right after the cough. I was in the hallway between my bedroom and bathroom when my cougheave occurred. It came as a total surprise and I'm just thankful there was nothing with it but air and spit because I would never have made it to the sink, toilet or even tiled floor in time. I wish I could phonetically write the sound for you, but it's really impossible. Just use your imagination.
What else?
Oh yes, I had to teach two hours of classes today. One hour of weight lifting, one hour of kickboxing, on the banana and dry toast I got down. I must have been glowing green.
Afterwards, I got to squeeze in a 30 minute nap only to wake up feeling worse than ever. Headache, dry mouth, dizziness, nausea and cougheaves.
Ain't life grand?

11/4/10 - Well, how do you like that?

So, I've been sick lately. I'm not talking a little under the weather sick. I'm talking serious mal de mer. Nausea, multiple puke sessions (I've learned the kitchen sink is really the most desirable location for such gifts), spinning rooms, massive headaches. Disgusting. So I'm standing in my kitchen after a particularly grueling 2 hour workout followed by a 5 minute heave-ho, and a voice says to me (yes, I hear voices) "You're pregnant". Say what? I think this is ridiculous. This can't be. I mean, yeah, I went off the pill 3 months ago when the hubs and I thought we would have biological kids. Everyone says it takes forever to go "back to normal", whatever that means. So I feel I have some time here. Anyway, after that decision I started thinking about being pregnant. I mean, REALLY thinking about it. *shudder* New decision! It is not for me. "I'm sure it's lovely and beautiful for some" I said to him one lovely night over my second martini "but it just isn't my style. The big belly, the...thing moving around in there.  I mean, a HEARTBEAT inside your body that isn't YOURS? Weird. Hemorrhoids?? I hear you get hemorrhoids! And don't even get me started on the labor part. I get the vapors just thinking about it." I made a mental note to see my lady doctor in the next few weeks and get back on something stat.
"You're pregnant"
This is absurd. I'm going to Walgreen's today anyway, I think, so why not grab a test, just in case? So I do, laughing as I check out and giving way too much information to the confused checker. "I don't really NEED this" I laugh "It's silly really. I'm just going to be throwing good money down the drain!" She tightens her lips as if to simulate a smile.
"You're pregnant"
I get home and wait a good 2 hours before busting that little box wide open. "So stupid" I say as I'm reading the directions. Pee on the stick, lay flat, leave for three minutes. Got it. Except as soon as I put it down and finish peeing a + has already started to appear, exactly 20 seconds later. I squeeze my eyes closed. No way, it just has to...rest...or...like...figure it out for a second. It's too soon! It's not three minutes! What does it know!? I run out of the bathroom and grab my cat. "Tuffy, this isn't happening, right? We're okay. We're good." I go back in the bathroom three minutes later to find the darkest + sign I have ever seen in my life. "NOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!" Tuffy scratches me to free himself from the insanity. "No! How did this happen! It can't be!" Immediately I take a picture with my phone and send it to the hubs with the caption "uh oh".
As soon as he gets home, I dissolve into tears. We then decide maybe it was a false positive (I have now learned positives are never false, only negatives). I pee on another stick and make him look. "It's a +". We decide I purchased the cheap brand of tests and race to the nearest drug store for the most expensive ones they have. "99.9% accurate!" it boasts. Perfect. I decide to wait until the next day. Maybe all the alcohol I drank during the weekend is messing things up. Next day, I pee, hubs looks. "Two pink lines, honey. I think it's official".
Sigh.
So here we are.
Women who have had babies always LOVE to tell you how wonderful it is. You've never felt sexier! It's so amazing! I loved being pregnant! I can tell you from PERSONAL experience, they are either suffering from dementia, complete sadists or lying through their teeth. And I'm only in week 7.
At my husband's urging, I have decided to start this blog, Pregnancy Blows, to detail the honest-to-God TRUTH about what goes on. And to make it okay for all women out there not to adore being with child.
I will start with today;
6am - woke up to serious stomach churning and massive headache. Sweet husband brings me a banana.
6:50am - take a bite of a dry English muffin in hopes I can actually eat today
7:15am - take a seat in my car to drive myself to school and immediately grab the plastic bag that I now must always travel with and dry heave
8am - arrive in the parking lot at school and decide I can hold out no longer. It's either here or out there among the public. I grab for my Ralph's bag (very poetic, methinks), twist my torso into the foot space of the passenger seat and proceed to empty what little contents remain in my stomach. Once finished, I feel absolutely no better.
8:30am - take a test in my ASL class and share my focus with both the teacher, and the nearest trash can
11am - leave school and grab a bagel in hopes that will stay put
12pm - arrive home and drive heave into sink
2-3:30pm - take the deepest nap in history, wake with a splitting headache
6pm - eat some dinner, feel vile and wretched for the rest of the night
Those women are right, this IS beautiful!