Mandatory Overtime

Overtime is killing me. Dead. I don't know how Michael lives with me. All I do is work and cry (sometimes in an angry voice) about how I still have to work that evening/the next day. I just need a break. I'm so tired. We are entering the 7th week in a row of mandatory overtime and I am slowly dying inside. If I have to work 50 hours again next week, I may just call in sick all week.

Week 16

So, here we are. Already.

And you had better not say anything mean around my baby because he can totally hear you now! (How cute is that?)

And something happened when my computer crashed that made it so I can't upload the picture, so it'll have to wait for a little minute. Sorry, guys.

And here we go:

Well, SOMETHING Is Shrinking

So, I noticed today, just this moment, that my belly button is disappearing. Goodbye, Bellybutton, you were so good to me for so long.

I can't believe what used to be a normal-sized, normal-depth belly button is now so shallow and tiny. It doesn't look real at all. My belly is huge and round, like a plastic Santa doll or something. With no belly button.

I kind of miss it and dread the day it's gone completely.

Week 15

Wow. Here we are at week 15. My back is starting to seriously hurt. It's crazy. I've never had lower back pain before. It's always been my upper back that has hurt. Now, it's both. And mostly my lower back (and you can see why!).

I had a pretty good day. I ordered some new bras (online, of course, because no store on earth sells my size--bless their hearts) and I was sad to see that the prettier one didn't fit--nor will it ever fit in this lifetime. I was so squished that I wanted to collapse onto my bed in defeat. But my bed is getting really hard to climb into, so that wasn't about to happen. I can't believe it's going to get worse for six more months before it gets better. I can't imagine having a harder time getting around than I'm already having now.

The other day, I dropped my glasses under my desk and I tried to pick them up, but I couldn't bend down that far, and I couldn't get down on my knees. Michael wasn't home, so I had to leave him a note to please pick them up for me. It's so ridiculous.

But in another month, we'll get to know if we're having a boy or a girl, and I just can't wait. It is going to be so much fun. I can't believe how fast time has gone by and how insanely big I've gotten so far. And there is more where that came from.




By the way, I tried really hard to not make my I-hate-getting-my-picture-taken (AKA the I-am-really-uncomfortable-right-now-in-this-situation-and-I-wish-it-were-over) face. But it just came out the same. Oopsie.

Nesting

I think I've really started getting that nesting instinct. I just want to run around and clean and organize everything.

Monday night, Michael and I went to Office Depot to get binders and page protectors so I can organize all of my knitting patterns.

I can't wait to get another bookshelf so we can have all of our books on a bookshelf and get the storage room cleaned up and out. I want to keep all of our empty boxes, but I'm ready to get rid of a lot of stuff from my past. I can't wait to reorganize my bedroom and make room for our sweet little baby. I really feel the need to get everything done now and get all ready. I just want to spend the next six months scrubbing every corner of the apartment and making baby blankets and things--I don't want to be caught without a crib or anything and then have a baby that we can't clothe or allow to sleep anywhere.

How cute is it that Michael and I are going to have a baby? I LOVE babies! Especially ours. He's the cutest baby ever. I promise. Totally adorable and I can't wait to meet him (or her). But, in the meantime, I'm trying really hard to get all ready and make sure everything is perfectly cleaned and organized so that, when the time comes, I can just relax and enjoy the first few moments of my baby's life.

Yesterday's Midwife Appointment

The appointment yesterday went really well (until all of the afterward part).

Margy is great. We got to hear our baby's heartbeat (which is exactly the same rate as it was last time, so exciting!). Margy decided to measure me because I have something to measure, even though most girls at 14 weeks don't. This makes her think that maybe I am farther along than we think, so she's having us to the ultrasound before we wanted to, which is fine, I guess, it'll just end up costing us a lot more. But if it means finding out that we're due in April instead of May, that is a wonderful thing (as long as I don't have to share my birthday--I'm not a sharer when it comes to my birthday). But don't worry--Michael has already informed me that if the baby is born on my birthday, I will still have to love him (and I promise I will, even if I have to share my own personal birthday). But now, we'll be able to tell our family at Christmas if we're having a boy or a girl--that will be so much fun. And we all know that I can't keep a secret to save my life. Now that I know it's only five weeks away, I just can't wait to find out if we're having a boy or a girl. And I hope that they tell me I'm 21 weeks pregnant and not 19. That would be great! I am just so excited for the baby to come. I can't wait!

After the fun time with Margy, I had to get a flu shot from Cheryl. That was okay. She did a really good job. I only freaked out a little bit. But then I had to get my blood drawn for all of those crazy tests they do. And the girl who was there did a really bad job and it hurt like crazy. She took four vials of blood and then, when she took the needle out of my arm, she must not have done something right, because I started bleeding all over the place, losing even more of my precious blood that I need myself. It really hurt when she took the needle out, too, which is a new experience for me. And not a pleasant one, I'll tell you. Then I had to give another urine sample, and when I told the girl I didn't think I could, she just laughed like I was the most ridiculous girl ever, like just because I'm pregnant, I can pee on command (which she really did say), but I had just peed half an hour earlier, and I hadn't had any water yet in the day--all I had was a bowl of cereal with milk. So I really didn't pee very much at all. I didn't give her enough for the two vials she needed. I hope she makes do. Or not. I don't care. She wasn't the nicest girl ever--treating me like a freak because I can't pee on command when I'm pregnant and haven't had a glass of water in 12 hours and am totally parched and she hurt me so much and she stole all of my blood.

One really good thing happened at the appointment. I learned that I've only gained 4-5 pounds so far. I mean, seeing as how you're really only supposed to gain about a pound a month in the first trimester, it isn't that great, but also for how big I've gotten, I really haven't gained much weight. That is great. Suddenly, even though I'm huge, I don't feel repulsive, and I've started to feel like a cute pregnant girl. Just like I've always wanted to be. So look out World. I'm adorable. And huge. And I often bump into things.

Week 14

What? Did I seriously just say that? That means that the first trimester is ending and the second one is beginning (depending on if you think this week is part of the first trimester or not). But soon, there will be no question that I'm in the second trimester, which mean that I will finally be justified in starting to show/look pregnant. I've looked pregnant for over a month now. But now I'm allowed to, according to what I've read (now that you're in your second trimester you MAY start to show)--like there is no way anyone in the first trimester EVER looks pregnant.
Whatever, jerkfaces. I do what I want.

But here I am, at week 14, looking all cute and pregnant:



Michael always asks me why I make this face when he takes my picture--here's the answer: I hate getting my picture taken and my skin is always so shiny and there isn't really anything I can do about it and I feel a little freakish insisting that he take my picture ALL the time. But I feel like this should be preserved for posterity.

Hard Times at Work Today

A conversation at work (maybe today, maybe yesterday, maybe late last week, even) that involved Joel, mostly, I think, involved Joel's saying how he sometimes felt a little bad that he could just look at Bethany and she'd get pregnant, and he felt a little bad sometimes because they have so many friends who are trying to have kids and they just can't. That is something that I can totally relate to. It's sometimes hard when all of my friends are having their third, fourth, or fifth kids and I still can't have one. I identify with how hard it can be. It's sometimes hard to be happy for my friends, even though I want to be. But I still tried and I never missed a baby shower I was invited to and I never said mean things about anyone who was having a million kids (except maybe my sister had TOO many kids way too close together), and never out of envy. I honestly believe Chelsea had her kids way too close together for her to be able to handle and she's never been able to catch up on her sleep or sanity and she's totally turned into a frazzled old woman at the age of 33.

But today, someone at work started hating on people who say they are trying to have kids. He said some really hateful things, demeaning a couple's pain when they just want to share their love, lives, and joy with a baby of their own. It was really hurtful to me. I wanted to yell at him that it's totally inappropriate to mock them for saying that they are trying. Sure, "trying" implies having sex, and I'm sorry taht he can't handle the idea of married people having sex when he's been in a drought since he moved to Utah. But "trying" often implies so much more--with medical interventions and stress and faith and so much that no one ever sees. When he said those mean things, I was so offended and sad. I almost cried (not that it takes a lot for me to cry these days, but it was so inappropriate). How can someone be so oblivious to someone else's pain?

I mean, I know that a week or so ago, this guy said that he wanted to stop being so mean and start being nicer, and then asked me, very seriously, about ways he could start being nicer to people. And I told him that I didn't know except to start seeing people as people who have other things going on in their lives and problems and hard times that we can't and may never see. He replied, "Yeah, I don't think I could do that." And then dropped it. So why am I surprised when he's mocking people that have a hard time having kids and tell people that they are trying? Guys, here's a shocker: I am married and I have sex with my husband. In the end, that is how I got pregnant. But there was a lot more involved in it than that. There were a lot of tears, there was a lot of prayer, there was a lot of wishing, talking, internal dialogues, and then there was a lot of stress and worry and the threat of a lot of medical interventions.

I don't know why I was so offended by his offhand comments--saying things like, "oh, you're trying to have kids? What--does that like take an advanced degree or something?" "Gross--you're trying to have kids, that is not anything I want to hear about." I can't believe anyone who is 33 years old is that immature to not realize that not every couple can get pregnant the second they want to. I know I shouldn't be so invested in things he does--to mock so flippantly the couples that Joel was talking about. But it is hurtful, because, even though he didn't realize he was making fun of me, and I never told people that Michael and I were "trying" to have kids, but that was my situation until three months ago. It's just rude that he can't see other people as people who have things going on in their lives that we aren't a part of.

Harder than I Thought

So, I thought I would just LOVE to be pregnant and look pregnant. I love when other girls look pregnant--I think it's the cutest thing alive. I have always wanted to be pregnant and have a baby, and I thought I would love it. And I am glad that I'm showing. But it's so hard for me to be getting bigger. I don't feel pregnant, I just feel fat. I don't feel cute at all. I feel replusive. Maybe things will be differnent next month when I will maybe be able to start feeling the baby move, I will feel better about how big I'm getting. It doesn't help when people tell me "wow, I wasn't that big until I was 6 months pregnant." I know that I'm a lot shorter than most people, so I'm going to show a lot more because there's nowhere else for anything to go. My stomach pokes out--and has since I was about 7 weeks--and it looks noticeably bigger after I eat or drink. That's just how it is.

I'm trying really hard to not feel so negative about how fat I am because it's not like my face and neck are fat--they look just the same as ever so far--so, really, it's all just in my belly that I'm gaining all of this mass. I want to feel adorable and cute and everything, but it's just so hard. I'm excited to be pregnant, and I want to feel like I'm as cute as every other pregnant girl. Sometimes, I do, but then when I remember that under the bulge in my shirt is my skin, it makes it really hard to think that it's cute anymore--that is my body stretching and growing before your very eyes.

But every other pregnant girl is adorable. I don't know what's wrong with me that I'm not.

A New Experience

So, as I move into my second trimester, I was really excited to not feel so sick anymore and have a little more energy. That is a little true. I have more energy--but it totally comes in tiny spurts. I'll be like running around one moment, and then the next, I'll lie on the floor and take a little nap. It's kind of funny.

Now, instead of being totally nauseated all day every day, I am suffering from the worst indigestion known to man. Even when I eat a small bowl of soup, it's like I'm eating huge rocks that sit in my stomach and slowly make their way through my digestive system. I hate having such an upset stomach all day long. It makes me almost miss the nausea. I'm hoping this goes away soon because it is the worst thing ever.

But it's only just started. I haven't even had to suffer through this for a whole week yet, so I guess wishing it away right now is a little premature. And maybe now I won't have to eat so much? It's a thought.

Week 13 Already

So, this is a little late again. It's hard for me to always be on top of a weekly post, which is fine--and totally understandable because of how tired/sick I have been forever.

I'm getting bigger all the time. I have gained about 7-8 inches around my waist already, which is totally unbelievable to me. How can that be? It really is unbelievable, but our sweet little baby is 3 whole inches long now! How cute is that? And he's waving his little hands at us, I just know it.

We go to our next appointment with the midwife a week from today, and I just can't wait. It's going to be great (unless something bad happens and something is wrong--then I will be devastated for the rest of my life).

Sorry, no picture this week. You'll just have to wait until next week.

Same Old Thing

Okay. Feeling so sick, tired, nauseated, etc is really getting old and I'm ready to move on to just being big and dizzy--but all of it at once is too much.

I think it's as funny as the next guy that I can't push my chair in all the way anymore when I'm sitting in it at work without totally squishing my huge belly. And it's hilarious that I get so dizzy I could just fall down if I stand up too fast. And it's nice to remember to drink water because my throat is always parched. And it's laughable that my back hurts so badly and lying down doesn't help, sitting doesn't help, standing doesn't help--there is nothing I can do to make it feel better. And it is really a great joke to be so nauseated all the time that I don't want to eat but the only thing that will alleviate some of that (never all of it, of course) is eating. That is really the funniest part. But enough is enough. It's fine that I can only do one thing every afternoon when I get home from work--and that is usually talking to my mom on the phone for 20 minutes or maybe cooking something for lunch the next day. But I haven't cleaned anything, worked on my knitting, watched a full-length movie, or anything for what seems like months. Or I've watched one or two movies in the last three months.

And I'm so tired.

And that is how I really feel.

The end.