A Diary of Early Pregnancy

Dear Readers,

I haven't been able to blog as much of late because I've been spending a lot more time sleeping than usual: Francisco and I are expecting!

I wanted to wait for a while to write about it here, since, well, the first trimester is a little scary--the risk of miscarriage is about 1 in 5. But now we're past that and into the second trimester, which is supposed to be the blissfully great one, but my experience so far is still one of lots of fatigue and some new headaches. (All in all, I've been ridiculously healthy and really have very little to complain about.)

Anyway, of course I couldn't just not write about early pregnancy, so I wrote about it as it was happening and just waited to put it up on the blog.

So, here you go:

--I  panicked the day before our flight to California, because I realized that I didn't have a flu shot and was now pregnant. So I insisted that Francisco and I get flu shots immediately. We went to CVS; they took forever, and we barely left in time to get home and finish packing. And then I was then worried that we'd get fevers reacting to the flu shot on the beginning of our Northern California vacation. Our Northern California trip was a story in itself: I proceeded to fall asleep every night at 8:30 (jetlag and fatigue). We didn't tell anyone that we were expecting, since it was so early, but people could tell--I turned down wine, fell asleep at the drop of a hat, and was not doing so well on the curvy rural roads. 

--I got a pat down at the airport since I'm pregnant and not sure what those machines do to babies. They pat you down right in the midst of scanners and x-ray machines--it was a very awkward thing to have done to you in public, but I guess having it done to you in private would be bad in a different way. Definitely not may favorite thing. Although the first woman who patted me down was uber-thorough; later pat downs have been more cursory and not as aggravating. Also--I always forget to say "I opt out of the scanners" and instead say "I'd like a pat down." (Obviously I wouldn't like a pat down, but the two statements amount to the same thing.) Once, when I said, "I'd like a pat down" the woman TSA agent gave me elevator eyes from feet to head and said, "You'd like a pat down?" It did occur to Francisco and me that we might be able to sue for sexual harassment and get some money out of it.

--I'm worried about chemicals in everything now: I took off my nail polish and don't plan to wear it again; I'm worried about my foundation and the other little bit of make-up I wear; I'm trying to eat healthy food, although Francisco and I give in to McDonald's occasionally, and I always threaten afterward to give birth to a hamburger; I drink primarily filtered water (for the first time in my entire life). 

--We nicknamed the baby the Little Monster after seeing this picture. 

-- I'm constantly worried about miscarriage. It's really hard to have something affect you this much (I'm constantly aware that I'm pregnant because I feel different, sometimes a lot different), and, at the same time, to know that there's a sizable chance that it might not stick. It's also really odd to have something happen to you that so significantly impacts your future and not be able to talk about it with most of your friends, since you're supposed to keep it a secret until you're out of the first trimester.

--I have intense food appetites and aversions: I hate, hate, hate sandwiches. I'm not that interested in sweets and I want salads and soups and fruit all the time. (This is amazing to me since, in the past, I survived primarily on bread and chocolate and candy.)