It's Sunday night and we took the weekend to tell the people closest to us that we are expecting a little Rockwell in September. Yep. The official due date is actually September 11.
It's scary (scarier) and has more realness now that people know. Before it was just our little secret that we could talk about together but had to be careful not to discuss with the parentals or mention to friends on the phone. We learned on Thursday that there's less than a 10% chance of miscarriage after a heartbeat is detected and we could definitely hear one from our hummingbird, so we thought it was safe to tell. And now that grandma knows, everyone will know.
Another reason we felt it was ok to share the news is that I've been getting super sick. My nausea is getting worse. I've been sidelined over the past 48 hours with increasingly annoying and frequent trips to the bathroom. I hope the next four weeks go by swiftly and "morning" sickness goes away sooner rather than later. I'm a terrible patient and I'm just plain bad at being sick. I've decided that morning sickness is mother nature's way of desensitizing women like me. I gag at the idea of spittle, turn away from anything going the wrong direction from the mouth (ie - out, not in), and rather than help Clint when he's been sick, I put in ear plugs and hope it's over soon. This is my payback. I've learned my lesson! It can end now! I won't run away any more and I'll try to stop gagging when I see babies spit up! Please make it stop, please.
It's possible I'll be in this state of misery for another SIX weeks. SIX! And there's a terrible internet posting that says some women have 'morning' sickness throughout their pregnancy. If that's me, I will cry myself to sleep each night until September.
Here's the scale, in case you missed it earlier:
1- Nausea free! (technically, I haven't felt like this since January 1)
2- Fully functional. This means I can do normal stuff, but feel like I'm on a boat
3- Open with strangers. When asked how I'm doing, I tell them the truth: shitty. But I can complete most activities, minimally rushing to the bathroom
4 - Dizzy and paranoid. Will I make it to the grocery store? And back?
5- Show me the sickness bags. Keep them close, because this is gross.
6- This can't be normal.
7- I know how dirty it is on my bathroom floor.
8- I know I smell but I don't care, I'm not going anywhere.
9- Comatose.
10- One kid will be more than enough.
I've been a solid 8 today. It's 9:30 at night and I'm still wearing the clothes I slept in last night. I planned to shower earlier, but it hasn't happened yet. Inconvenient. That's next on my list of things to do right after I get sick next-- I have a 5-10 minute window of feeling good when I can do things like organize laundry, disinfect the toilet (a new past-time) or tidy up a bit. The shower is my priority now.
What else about the "8" today? I can't ride in a car without feeling uber nauseous and nothing is appetizing. Nothing. I've had to work in the back office to be close to the bathroom, and I'm running low on plastic baggies for travel purposes. At least now that everyone knows, I can share my misery with my family and friends!
No comments:
Post a Comment