Pregnancy Journal - Thirteen Weeks

Thirteen doesn't sound like very much when compared to forty. However, in retrospect, at seven I never thought I'd get here.

*Disclaimer: I'm not going to paint a pretty pregnancy picture here. Please discontinue reading if you don't want to read about it.

The day we found out I was pregnant was pretty surreal. I was about four days "late" and decided that it was time for a HPT. For those who have been TTC, the HPT can be your best friend or your worst enemy. I think it was good for me that the Captain's theory is that I am my own HPT and if I just wait long enough, I'll know soon enough if it's going to be negative, so this was only the second stick I have ever stuck under the stream, if you know what I mean. He wouldn't let me get obsessive about those darn tests. I'm sure you can imagine the scene in our apartment that morning.

This is me staring at that stick on my bathroom counter waiting for the minutes to tick by.
Not a very attractive shot, but there you have it. 

Once it had cured and I saw that blue plus sign, with one line significantly lighter than the other, but there none-the-less, I tip toed to the bedroom where my sleeping hubs lay in the dark. He heard me coming, propped himself up and turned on his lamp with squinty eyes. He looked at it, "what's it supposed to say?" I grabbed the instructions and came back to show him. "Well, there's definitely two lines...but one's so faint. Are you sure that's okay?" We decided since the darker line was the indicator line, it must be positive. We just kind of smiled and then I went back to getting ready while he studied the instructions. I'll be honest, it still didn't seem real. We tried to not get too excited. I mean, the chance of miscarriage of a first pregnancy is high, right? At least, that's what I've heard. Isn't that why we don't tell anyone the good news until we're "out of the woods" and well into the second trimester?

Those first few days were like a dream!
I was so happy! The Captain was so happy! We didn't have two cross words between us. We flew home for a week and decided after my youngest sister guessed it that it was too much fun to tell family in person. Even at five weeks (yes, my friends, apparently when you suspect you're pregnant from the beginning it makes for a very long gestation) it was so fun to share the news with our parents and siblings. We spent the first half of the week in Utah and the second half in California. And then the symptoms started kicking in. I wanted to start the story with the absolute joy of those first few days. I felt AMAZING. It was a week of what I have always dreamed pregnancy would be like. Apparently, in all those years of dreaming about being pregnant I never thought about the first trimester. If you've seen What to Expect When You're Expecting and you remember Elizabeth Bank's character, that is me. I am that kind of pregnant lady. Pretty much any bad symptom, I've got/had it. At first it was just the fatigue. I can handle fatigue. Then it was the nausea AND the puking. Now, I know it could've been worse. I have not been hospitalized (thank goodness). I did lose six lbs from week seven to week eight. Pregnancy rhinitis? I swear my midwife made that one up to make me feel better about my constant congestion and post nasal drip. "Pregnancy is kind of slimy." Intestinal distress (aka: can't go number 2 + bloating). Extra strain on my already strained kidney, what with 25% more blood coursing through my little blue veins??? OH, don't even get me started on my super human sniffer. In this city? Give me a freaking break. I can't even open my fridge, let alone make it one subway trip without pulling my scarf over my nose and mouth. The subway is just another story all together. It's like riding the Matterhorn for an hour each way, except there's no fresh air or mountain vistas to distract me. I will take a quick break to say that I am typing this with a smile on my face. I do find it a little humorous and will relish in telling my first born about all the fun I had carrying her or him in this, the worst city to be pregnant in.

Fast forward through week nine (I don't want to talk about it) to weeks ten through twelve. I got the puking down to a few times a week, okay so maybe it's every other day. I am starting to feel better. I'm still waiting for that magical transformation that supposedly happens in the second trimester when I will be gifted with all this extra energy I've been hearing about. Or maybe I'll follow in the footsteps of my beautiful mother and sister who were both sick through the first six to seven months of their first pregnancies.

Here is part of the problem. I was so sure I was going to be that magical pregnancy unicorn. The lady who does prenatal yoga four times each and every one of those 40 weeks (so far, it's only been the first three weeks, and technically I wasn't even pregnant for two of them). I was going to be the healthiest, glowiest, strongest pregnant lady this world has ever seen. So fit. So organic. So happy. Just loving those pregnancy hormones.

It may sound strange or even a little kooky, but I have had to grieve the loss of my dream. Come to grips with the fact that this is the experience that I am going to have and I may not feel very strong right now, but it sure as heck is making me stronger! Coming home to an empty house after riding the Matterhorn for an hour and walking past cigarette chimneys and uncovered garbage cans just to throw up so hard that it comes out my nose. This is my pregnancy and I claim it as mine and no one else's. I claim the joy of knowing that as long as I feel that nausea, it means there's a baby growing inside me. I claim the the achy abs, the urge to protect my baby's lungs from second-hand smoke already, the frequent and long trips to the ladies room, the food aversions and lack of appetite. I claim the connection to all the women before me who have labored to bring Heavenly Father's choice spirits into this broken and beautiful world. I claim it for me and for this baby.

With that said, here's a few pics. Thanks for listening.

I was feeling pretty good at work today. 

This was just after I got home and "lost" my afternoon snack. Maybe not feeling quite as good as I was earlier today.