Having Known for Eight Weeks.

Mentally: Okay, one pregnancy resource says at 13 weeks, my baby is the size of a peach.  Another resource says my baby is the size of a medium shrimp.  Does anyone else find these to be strikingly odd comparisons?  While in the back room at work, we were discussing which sort of peach this baby might be.  Are we talking the little peaches we buy at the GrandMart?  Or the jumbo peaches from Wegmans?  Is this a farmer’s market peach or the kind on steroids?  

Thinking back to when I first found out that I was pregnant, I would almost choke on the words as I said them aloud, hardly convinced myself.  It’s definitely gotten easier (and more fun) to admit that I’m pregnant.  No longer do I feel awkward, like when you’re telling the truth but don’t yet believe it.  I’m not sure when exactly I started owning my pregnancy completely, but I’ve discovered that the news has felt natural for a while.

Emotionally: I’m fine.  *shrug*

Let’s discuss my clients’ emotions.  Most of them immediately express joy for me.  Last Saturday, however, I had to laugh as one client in particular (whom I love and certainly don’t harbor resentment for this) shrieked, “Oh no!” when I told her the news.  Teasing her, I told her that I’d post her reaction on Square Piece along with her email address in case any of my followers had an opinion about such a negative outburst.

The first words out of another client’s mouth were, “What are we going to DO!?”

Shhhh…  If you’re very still and very quiet, you might be able to hear the sound of hair weeping in Northern Virginia.

Come on, guys.  It’s not like I’ll be gone forever.

Then there’s Brian’s emotions.  This Monday, I rearranged all of his clothes, hanging some and moving others to a new dresser.  The goal?  To make more room in the bedroom that there might also be room for a new, sleeping baby.  In light of the fact that I’m gaining weight, experiences cravings and aversions, tasting aluminum foil in my mouth, and – oh I don’t know – physically accommodating the growth of a human being in my body, I had to give Brian the DOINK! face as he moaned over the fact that I hung all of his T-shirts, insisting that I can’t change “too much” on him “too fast.”

Uh huh.  Suuuuure.  I can see how this pregnancy is soOoOoOo hard for you, Brian.

During the night of Begging for Blue, I asked Brian, “If it were possible for men to carry babies, would you do it?”  I got a resounding, “$%&# NO!”  When I asked him why not, he admitted that I have a higher threshold for pain than he does.

Well, I can’t argue with that.

And I didn’t.

Instead, I asked him to give specific examples as to how exactly he knows that I have a higher tolerance than him.  Then I sat back and basked in the joy of his explanations.

Physically: Kinda lost my appetite again earlier this week.  Found myself eating Wacky Mac veggie bow tie noodles with – brace yourself – salt.  Just salt.  Salt and noodles.  Mmmmm…

There has been an increased desire for salt.  Cartwheels were almost made yesterday when lunch was delivered and I received ample anchovies to the side of my salad.  (I had already begun complaining over my false prediction of being given two anchovies.)

Funnily enough, the old wives’ tales say that salt cravings indicate boys and sweet cravings indicate girls.  Suuuuuure.  What about when I want chocolate covered pretzels, hmmm?  What do the tales say about the combination?

In other news, while I’ve experienced ZERO discomfort in the milk production factory thus far, yesterday I glanced in the mirror and noted more junk in the trunk.  Yay me.

Additionally, it seems as though 50% of my previous belching is presently being expelled in another direction.  Do me a favor; if you see me moving from point A to point B and need to ask me something, walk WITH me to point B.  You do not want to get stuck in the middle.  There’s a reason I’m moving swiftly.

In conjunction with the gas discomfort has come what I believe are the “round ligament pains.”  Apparently my ligaments are stretching to accommodate my growing uterus.

Spiritually: Jesus’ compassion continues to humble me while reading through the gospel of Mark.  What mercy he bestowed on the unlovely!  Oh, that we all saw people through the lens of love that he did, looking past their present circumstances and seeing into their breaking and bursting hearts, hearts that took a chance to have faith in something.