I'll start by answering the second question I want to blurt out whenever I hear someone's pregnant (the first being when baby's due) and just let you know that yes, baby was planned. What wasn't planned was how quickly baby would settle itself in there, but we aren't complaining. We knew that it could be a long and potentially heartbreaking process ahead of us so we were prepared. Well, as much as we could be I guess. We didn't want to get our hopes up, which is hard for someone as impatient as me.
We clearly didn't need to worry because pretty much the second I stopped taking my birth control things started to happen. And I know we're incredibly lucky.
As for your first question, the answer is June 5th. Six months from today. Eep.
I started off the whole growing a baby thing thinking I had a cold. One was going around the office and I wasn't feeling quite right. Then things started to run a little behind schedule and survey said it was a little bit more than a cold. Then I started getting tired, not wanting to drink coffee, not wanting to drink tea, not wanting to eat things, not being able to function at the gym, wanting to take three hour naps, feeling like puking every time I stood for longer than 30 seconds, and oh look, we were deep in the throes of my first trimester.
Pregnancy exhaustion is no joke. I will never again doubt anyone who says they're tired when they're pregnant. I was so tired that I had to do as much as possible sitting down because standing up used WAY too much energy and made me feel like puking. Or overheating. I used to love hot showers but all of a sudden showering became this five minutes of sheer torture. Too much standing. Too much energy. Too much pressure. Just toooooo much. My legs didn't get shaved for the entire month of October and then some.
I would sleep in my car for a full hour on my lunch break, come home and collapse into my rocking chair, unable to even make dinner. Two or three minutes in the kitchen did me in. Then I would go to bed a couple hours earlier than normal and sleep like a dead person until my alarm went off. On Saturdays and Sundays I would take two or three hour naps and only drag myself out of bed because HUNGRY but no all your food is gross except for maybe french fries and thank God for prenatal vitamins otherwise baby would totally have scurvy by now. Except I love mandarins and get can't get enough. But you get my point.
I had this dream of making banana bread cinnamon buns and drinking coffee in my rocking chair after a really successful workout but then I didn't want sugar or coffee and couldn't actually bake anything let alone go to the gym because wow is it nap time yet?
Seriously. All I wanted to do was sleep. Actually, that's kind of still the case. Karl and I went for a 25 minute walk around the neighbourhood one afternoon and I was a complete wreck that night. I felt like the nausea was going to kill me.
Anyway, after one particularly crappy weekend where I barfed Saturday and Sunday (I've only hurled three times, guys!) I had enough and figured that while I'm not the worst off in the world my quality of life wasn't what it could be. So I went to the clinic and the oldest doctor in the world (I kid you not, I thought he was a senile patient at first) saved my sanity and hooked me up with some Diclectin. And may God bless modern medicine.
I popped my first pill around noon and by the end of the day I could function. The drugs got rid of the nausea (more or less) and actually helped reduce my exhaustion. So I spent the next weekend baking up a storm and feeling more like myself than I had for ages.
Truthfully, I was only really sick for two or three weeks. I'm still tired and I'm still nauseous but when I compare it to how I felt before you won't hear me complain. Unless I'm trying to get Karl to do the dishes or something.
This week has felt a bit like a bit of a step back for me and I didn't go to work yesterday because I was too tired and couldn't imagine sitting at my desk, feeling as ick as I did and getting anything done. So I slept for another three hours, caught up on TV, finished knitting a couple blankets, and had my first ever full physical. I'm still tired, a little nauseous, and came home and cried after spending 45 minutes in Walmart tonight but that could happen to anyone at any time.
I also have to admit that I bought maternity jeans a good two or three weeks ago. I'm not sure if I just ignored it before, but pregnancy and gas are a real thing. And not necessarily gas leaving your body in an embarrassing and unsocially acceptable manner, but in the way that your innards start slowing down and you have a massive baby bump sooner than you ever thought imaginable but really it's just a gas baby causing you pain and your clothes to look tighter. Which is why I was skulking around the maternity section of Old Navy on my lunch break one day, praying that nobody I knew would see me.
I bought a belly band this weekend and it's amazing. I can wear pants that would otherwise cause me physical pain to do up with no problems. It's almost like wearing sweatpants. True story, I've been dying to get pregnant ever since I first heard of belly bands just so I could get one. Every day can be a fat day! And, yes, I have a little bump, but it just looks like a pot belly.
And on that note, even though it's Friday it's after 10 and that means that I'm about 15 minutes away from turning into an incoherent pile of tears and exhaustion. And all this talk about nausea is making me nauseous. Time to sleep it off for 12 hours.