I never really saw myself as the type to have a “let me tell you about how my pregnancy has been” post, but after holding in my fun little secret for so long, I actually want to talk about it.
Compared to some of my friends, we waited a really long time to tell people. I was 10 weeks when we finally told our parents and siblings. This was partially because I just wasn’t emotionally ready to go there yet and partially because I was super paranoid about having a miscarriage. My mom had a miscarriage with her first pregnancy, so I almost expected that it’d happen to me too. And if I did miscarry, I kind of wanted it to be a private experience for a while. I know—I’m weird. I’d accepted that miscarriage happens a lot, especially in first pregnancies, and that it happens for a reason. Most of the time it means something really really major was wrong with the baby, so I learned to feel ok about letting that baby go if it means he/she didn’t have to endure much pain. Plus, I believe miscarriages are included in eternal families. If I miscarried, that baby would still be mine forever. Miscarriage is still really sad, though, and I’m glad I have yet to experience it.
As far as morning sickness goes, I was pretty lucky. Mostly food looked really gross for a while. Pinterest was no fun at all during this stage. My browsing was constantly punctuated by internal, “Eww, that looks nasty,” and, “Ick. Scroll down, scroll down!” I never got very nauseous, but mornings were definitely the ickiest part of the day, which is weird because I’m normally big into breakfast. Some mornings the only thing that sounded relatively appetizing was lemon-lime pop and crackers. Not exactly a healthy breakfast, but I figure it was better than eating nothing. It was a welcome change when my appetite decided to reemerge about three weeks ago or so.
My immune system didn’t fare so well. This is where “The Cold That Loved Me Too Hard” comes in. I’m usually a very high-functioning sick person, and I rarely miss work because I’m sick, but I was really down for the count for almost the entire month of February. It started out with a cold, then less than two weeks later I got another (different) cold, then a week later I got a bad ear infection. I missed a total of six days of work, and would have missed an additional five days if I hadn’t been sick on weekends and President’s day. I spent a total of 11 days in the month of February laying on the couch! It was ridiculous. Well-meaning coworkers were constantly giving me suggestions on cold meds I should try. I always felt a twinge of guilt when I’d say, “Oh yeah, I should look into that,” when I knew very well I couldn’t take it. Pretty much all that I was cleared to take was Tylenol and Benadryl (and later amoxicillin when I got the ear infection). I’d heard that being sick is worse pregnant, but wow. It really is. But I’m coming up on three consecutive weeks of healthiness, so I’m crossing my fingers the worst is behind me for a little while at least.
These days I pay a lot more attention to those progressive belly shots you see on Pinterest. I feel itty bitty compared to most. I only barely started to avoid my more form-fitting shirts (they still fit, but they’re just not flattering anymore), and even then all my jeans still fit fine. I feel a little chubby, but I haven’t gained any weight at all. I actually weigh slightly less than I did before I was pregnant. It’s weird. My temporary loss of appetite or “The Cold That Loved Me Too Hard” may be to blame for that, but even then my weight has stayed pretty consistent since the beginning of January. My doctor hasn’t said anything about it, so I guess it’s nothing to be concerned about yet. On the contrary, he has twice thanked me for being skinny because it makes finding the heartbeat easier. Kind of a weird compliment, but I’ll take it. In the meantime I’ve switched from 1% milk to 2%. I figure it can’t hurt.
So that’s the low-down on the current situation as of now—15 weeks. It may be more or less than you wanted to know, but there you have it.