3 weeks…and counting.

A little over three weeks ago Michael and I found out we were having a guppie.  (Cue the trumpets!)

Clearly, I was in denial.  It was like a mini death, me frantically trying to ignore the obvious evidence: lack of period, boobs so sore that clothing should have been optional, and two positive pregnancy tests. Over the period of a week I went through my own version of the Kubler-Ross stages.  I started with blatant denial, then shifted to anger, glazed over bargaining, there was probably depression and ideally, I’m now in acceptance-but sometimes, that’s questionable too.

I write this somewhat tongue in cheek, because how I feel about the guppie on a day to day basis depends on a variety of not so complex things: how I feel and how my clothes fit.  Well, cross that second one off, my clothes immeditately stopping fitting, “right.”  Based on all the books I’ve read, the friends I’ve talked to and my midwife the consensus is: I was too damn skinny before.  Ahem.  Yes, very scientific.

So, the deal is I’m pregnant and I’ve started to gain weight.  For most people, this isn’t a big deal.  For someone who just realized they could have been shopping in the kids section all this time and never did-it’s a bit startling.  Nothing quite fits the way it should.  Fortunately, my dress pants for work still fit, but I feel pudgy and bloated all the time.  One friend joking said, “yeah, that won’t go away, soon you’ll just be really pregnant and bloated.”

Now, the guppie isn’t a bad thing.  It’s just that I’m a bit of a planner.  And despite all those warnings on birth control screaming that stopping it will land you pregnant, I thought that was just there to scare people.  I’ve been on birth control for years, I figured a few weeks off wouldn’t land me with an embryo.

Here’s the irony: I’ve always wanted kids.  I’ve mooned over the baby section for years hoping that someday I’ve have a reason to shop there for myself.  I love baby showers.  I love getting the holiday cards with goofy little kids plastered on the front with references to kings and eternal happiness.  Yes, there are more concrete reasons, but now those are the things that come to mind.  Except now that it’s happening to me, to us, it’s strange. 

And, there’s a tiny bit of me that’s very supersticious.  I mean, until there’s an kid wondering around my place, I’m not entirely convinced.

But, here’s the reality:  I’m already working on being a mom.  There’s a 8 week old embryo messing with my emotions and sending me running to the toilet bowl to throw up the burrito I couldn’t wait to eat.  I can’t drink tea, nor can I stomach the idea of tea right now.  Between the heightened sense of smell (I could double for the local rescue basset hound if I wasn’t so tired and slow), food aversion, gas, nausea and general dis-ease-I’m clearly on my way to maternity.

The interesting part of it all is that I’m not alone.  My best friend said last week when I told her, “I’ve been thinking about how everyone we know, came from a pregnancy..”  Or something like that.  And it’s true.  We all came from somewhere, that somewhere being a mom, a uterus, we are the ultimate outcomes of that infamous host-parasite relationship- and all I can think is: we don’t thank our mothers enough.

So, who knows what’s in store?  But, I’m not alone and I’m not the first, so there’s comfort in that. Stayed tuned for more on the Saunders-BC guppie.

 

 

 

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