I've been counting my blessings since the whole pregnancy journey began. The counting, of course, started with finding out that we were pregnant but I think I really started racking up the blessings when I escaped the dreaded first trimester "morning" sickness. I even enjoyed no more than the usual pre-pregnancy crabass-age (or mood swings if you prefer).
The whole process has been such a breeze that I wouldn't even believe that I was pregnant unless it were for the ultrasound!
Well, as it turns out, 12 is my magic number. On Friday, I entered my 12th week of pregnancy. On Saturday I couldn't find enough food in the house to keep me satisfied. I ate, and ate, and ate and still my stomach rumbled!
Fast forward to today, Tuesday. I woke up this morning at 5am from a vivid dream - ok, so that's one more symptom that I'm suffering from, vivid and memorable dreams. The dream goes a little like this: Stephen and I were in what looked like movie theater seating. My parents were there, my Aunt Amy & Uncle Jim, Cousin DeeDee and Great Aunt Betty. Everybody was hugging and smiling and congratulating us about the baby. But then, Aunt Betty wrapped her arms around me and I just lost it completely. I began SOBBING uncontrollably. No reason, it was a VERY happy dream. But I just couldn't hold it in any more. My dream crying woke me up where I proceeded to be racked with sobbing, for real.
Again, I didn't really have any reason to be so moved! Yes, this process is scary. Yes, I have no idea what I'm doing. But I also have full confidence that I can do it and I have an amazing partner by my side to lean on when ever needed.
So after a few minutes of steeping in my own tear soaked pillow I decided that I needed a change of scenery. Maybe if I got away from "the scene of the crime" I could focus on something else and stop the blasted crying.
So I got up and made myself some Malt-O-Meal for breakfast. I poured the water in the pot, added all the ingredients and as I stirred tears rolled down my cheeks. My lips twisted in grimace. When it was finished, I sat down at the kitchen table and nursed my breakfast while I read a magazine thru bleary eyes and tear stained glasses.
Finally finished with my breakfast and fed up with my behavior, I slipped into some workout clothes and got my heart pumping. Finally, relief! Something else to focus my energy into...for a half hour.
After my work out, it was time to get ready for the day. So I went back into the bedroom where Stephen was groggily wishing the sun wasn't up yet. I sat down and was telling him about my morning (I had been up for about an hour and a half by then). And the damn tears started again.
I thought I was going to be in trouble ALL day long!
Thankfully, I wasn't. As soon as I got to work, my brain locked in on the task at hand and the day went by without so much as a whimper.
But I didn't stay that lucky.
I picked up a few movies from the Library today, so after dinner I popped in "Juno". For those of you who don't know, it's a charming story about a 16 year old girl who gets pregnant. It has just enough humor and happy endings to make it light and easy to swallow. How was I supposed to know that I was going to unintentionally torture myself for the duration?
Well, this may be the most powerful movie I've ever seen (even thought I thought it was too annoying to even get thru the first half hour the first time I tried to watch it a year ago). Or at least that's what you'd think if you had watched me watching this movie. Thankfully, Stephen was at Aikido class and only witnessed the last twenty minutes of me and the movie.
Again! Uncontrollable sobbing, however, this time, the tears were mixed with deep belly laughs. I was completely amazed at myself! I don't crumble like this! I'm a woman in control. But this movie triggered in me some torrent flood of unstoppable erratic emotions and I could do nothing but strap in for the horrific ride.
*sigh*
Now it's 9pm, bedtime. I think I should be able to make it up the stairs and into bed with out slipping in a puddle of my own salty brine.
So, apparently, 12 is MY magic pregnancy number where the symptoms really started to hit hard.
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