The Bump

Saturday, December 17

Officially 11 weeks now. My belly isn’t “showing” as much as it’s being an asshole who won’t stay in my pants. I’ve  started wearing this elastic band around my waist, in place of a belt. It allows me to unbutton my pants and still keep my pants up. I’m going to have to go shopping for bigger clothes soon. This may be something the average girl would look forward to, but I hate shopping. And something tells me looking for even bigger clothes isn’t going to be fun. I’m not ready for pregnancy pants!

According to BabyCenter.com: “Your baby, just over 1 1/2 inches long and about the size of a fig, is now almost fully formed. Her hands will soon open and close into fists, tiny tooth buds are beginning to appear under her gums, and some of her bones are beginning to harden.”

Other changes: My boobs – oh, my God, my boobs! I can’t even begin to describe what pain they’re giving off. Ten times that of PMS, let me tell you. At night is the worst. Every time I roll over, and they flop to the side, I groan. I tried a sleeping bra, but it dug into my skin and I threw that thing off at 2:00 in the morning. Not sure which pain is worse. Please, please, please, somebody tell me that the boob pain stops at some point.

In other boob news, my aerolas and my nipples are getting bigger, and they’re turning darker. WTF. I know, you don’t care about this, but no one told me about how my boobs would turn on me like this. No more cute, perky, light pink boobs — it’s all National Geographic now. Sigh…

Another lovely discovery: night sweats. Nothing like waking up absolutely drenched and having to change your clothes before crawling back into bed – on a wet spot. Ugh. Seriously – what the hell is that about? As someone who is usually freezing, you’d think I’d enjoy the change of pace, but not so much.

Still dealing with yucky mornings and an inability to brush my teeth at night without retching. Not in the morning, when the nausea is strongest, only at night. Makes no sense.

I wish I could talk about something positive, but so far, it’s not a lot of fun. We are getting excited about getting past this part though and actually having a family. DH is an amazing partner who is very attentive to my obnoxious complaints/needs/cravings. This morning, he made me pancakes, half with syrup and half with berries, because I couldn’t decide how I wanted them. And the other day I came home to a Hostess Apple pie on the counter. I’ve been having cravings for cherry pie, but they didn’t have that one. It’s close enough. It will get eaten! Anyway, I don’t mean to sound like a Negative Nelly, although if you know me, the description fits. We are going to be a wonderful, happy little family.

I think the part that I’m probably failing at the most is the diet. I’m just not good at that. The other day I felt really bad for little Lamb because all I ate was carbs. The kid’s probably like, “Come on, Mom! Just give me some damn green beans already!” I must work on that.

Also, exercise. I just haven’t been able to give a shit about that in this stage. I hope for more energy in the second trimester so that I’ll care about getting on the treadmill for an energizing walk. But right now, who cares? I need to eat or sleep. Those are my needs. Anything else just has to wait.

Tuesday, December 20

I finally got on the treadmill yesterday and walked for 30 min. DH was beaming at me. He is the biggest cheerleader when it comes to fitness and I know that seeing me do something that wasn’t sitting/lying on the couch and dozing had to feel good. Although for hours afterward I had this pain in my tailbone/lower back area every time I stepped down with my left foot. Bizarre. I blame the exercise. Haha.

I wore my friend’s pregnancy jeans the other day. Boy, was that sexy. They have this ugly beige stretchy fabric that goes over your belly. I pulled the fabric over my belly and up to my boobs and pranced around in front of DH. I have to prepare him for all the unsexy that is to come. Based on the laughter, I think that did it.

Caught a cold yesterday. DH has it too, though he never gets it as bad or as long as me. And I can’t take any Zicam or drugs or anything, other than Tylenol. It blows! I can’t breathe at night, can’t stop blowing my nose during the day.

Waiting for the doctor to call me back about insurance concerns with the first trimester screening. I hate making phone calls. I always have. So being on the phone with clinics and insurance people and then waiting for calls back is not my cup of tea. But hopefully I’ll be able to make an appointment for the screening in the next two weeks and then with good results (fingers and toes crossed) I can let Facebook in on the big secret. Because I’m dying to post little gems like this:

“Hey Facebook, remember when all I could talk about was my wedding? Well, I finally got a new topic.”

“With my morning nausea and my inability to brush my teeth without retching, I have a feeling my dentist is about to have a rotten day.”

“About to hit the longest period of time I’ve ever gone without drinking. Where’s my gold star?”

“Damn Pampers commercials. You’re the only thing that makes me weep.”

“Our kid better be as cute as the one in the Jimmy Fallon credit card commercial or I’m putting it back.”

“Watching A Baby Story is not advisable. (Oh my God, that looks horrible!) Watching I Didn’t Know I was Pregnant is. (You dumbass!)”

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