Why do I do this to myself?

Really, I should have known better. I just had to tempt the Fates by saying I've had a pretty easy time of it with this pregnancy...

Gah.

I feel like someone took me out on a bender while I was asleep Monday night and pumped enough tequila into my system to give me a three day hangover right before dragging me home behind a crosstown bus.

Next time I say anything spectacularly stupid like that, I'm begging you to just hit me over the head with a lead pipe and put me out of my misery. By the time I come out of the coma, the worst should be over and I'll be better off having missed it. God, I'll probably send you a thank you note!

Note to self: BabyBug better be a model or a genius or better yet, a modelesque genius to justify putting his/her mom through this! No pressure or anything, kid...well maybe a little pressure.

Gaaaaaaaaaaaarlic!

Right now I'm struggling to focus on work because mentally I'm already half way to the grocery store where I'm going to buy a baguette and as many cloves of garlic as I can lay my hands on. Roasted Garlic for supper, Bug!

I think I would seriously eat an entire clove raw right now if someone put it in front of me.

I apologize in advance if I breathe on any of you in the near future.

10 Weeks Along, 30 More to Go!

For some reason this posting's title makes me feel like I'm singing "99 bottles of beer on the wall." Hopefully, I'm not going to be thinking this way through the entire pregnancy:

"I'm 10 weeks 4 days along today , 10 weeks 4 days aloooong,
Only 29 weeks and 3 days left until I can stop singing this soooong."

Well only a couple of weeks left to go in my first trimester I've had a pretty easy ride this time around and except for my constant companions - exhaustion and an ever increasing need for fiber - so I've got very little to complain about.

Apparently, my uterus is the size of a grapefruit now. When I can find it, it actually does feel like I've got a firm piece of fruit floating around in my pelvis. Weird!

The Babycenter 10 week update is available by clicking here and the 3D pic of Bug and 10 week update on his/her progress this week is here.

Personal update: Scott made me show him my profile while we were getting dressed this morning and he says I'm still not showing. I was a bit worried since this is my second pregnancy and lots of the stuff I've read said I may show rather early, which would have made it really hard not to have people guess that I've got a bun in the oven. Hopefully, it won't be an issue for a little while yet.

I seem to be developing some food fixations: dill pickles, Vachon Caramel cakes (which I love even when I'm not pregnant), and anything with tons of garlic or spice in it.

Other than the fact I sometimes forget certain words in English and I have to use whatever word I can think of in French, Arabic, sign language or Spanish to get my point across, everything is good here. I can't imagine how I sound to someone who doesn't know me because I probably sound demented.

If the Coke Machine is a'Rockin'...

Is it just me or does the sign in my last post look like the stick man is trying to get a little frisky with the pop machine?
So it's really just me who thinks it looks like that?
aaaaaaallrighty then.
...
Ahem.

Hello, My Name is Leigha and I'm an Addict...

I admit I'm one of those pissy people who always makes snide comments and my famous "fuck off and die" face at people I come across who happen to be smoking (even if I'm the one who has moved into their space) but now that I'm pregnant I've come to appreciate the crapfest overcoming an addiction really can be.

My addiction is by far one of the most insidious and surprising things I can think of: diet coke. Insidious how, you might wonder? Well...

a) it isn't illegal so I can get it almost everywhere at any time without fear of reprisal or consequences (unless Scott is close by and I swear that man can hear me thinking about it);
b) it is relatively cheap so you never hear of someone hitting rock bottom as a result of their addiction to it; and
c) to my knowledge, no one has ever cited diet coke as a contributing factor to the demise of their marriage or died as a result of their addiction to it, unless you count those idiots who die from tipping pop machines (and I would bet they are mostly Mountain Dew drinkers anyway so good riddance!).

However, I swear that whoever developed this drink somehow Frankensteined together the most addictive elements of crack, nicotine, and shopping to create a bottle of fizzy goodness I have never been able to resist...until now...because, of course, Babybug shouldn't have Aspartame.

So here I sit.
Primly drinking my Vitamin Water.
Staring at an ancient bottle of diet coke on my desk desperately wishing it was full of the aforementioned fizzy goodness.

6 months and 3 weeks more of this to go, people. In the meantime, if you see me perched on top of a pop machine mumbling to myself, please talk me down gently and whatever you do, don't tell Scott!

A New Kitten will Join the Pride...

Ok. So if this entry is filled with laughable spelling mistakes or just plain gibberish, you can blame my cat Neelix's butt as it seems bound and determined to place itself directly on my keyboard just as his cute little face bobs up and blocks my view of the computer screen. Someone sure is desperate for attention tonight (and for once it isn't me!).

It is kind of making me wonder how my two furry little monsters will deal with a third little monster in the house, especially one that isn't content to simply eat kibbles, occasionally snarf up psychedelic garden herbs and sprawl on my bed snoring. Will my cats be ok with the changes a baby will inevitably bring or will they end up compulsively popping kitty prozac and sniffing pheromones out of a brown paper bag in the back alley? I honestly don't know.

I remember when my brother Cullen was a baby...I loved him but I was also fiercely jealous. We used to share a bedroom and I remember waiting until he was dead asleep to sneak over to his side of the room and wake him up in the hopes that my parents would tire of his endless whining and send him back for a refund. Will my cats resort to tormenting their new human brother or sister in a misguided attempt to have me send him or her back to the pound?

Given how cat-centric we are, I actually suspect my kid's first word will be "Meow" so the disruption to our pride might be minimal...

9 weeks and counting!

So here we are at our (adjusted) 9 weeks.


Here is Babycenter's 9 week update

The Visible Embryo blurb isn't giving an update for this week so we'll move on to the 3D pic of Bug here. I hate to admit it but I didn't realize until just now that there is a lot of info on that page below the fascinating 3D picture so feel free to scroll down if so inclined. LOL Guess I'm easily distracted by the pretty pictures...

That's all I'm going to write today. Sorry, but I'm not going to give my traditional personal update this time because today has been a helluva day and I'm too busy being disappointed in someone I once thought was a friend to really focus on anything else. Take care all...

Bug Demoted Back to Embryo

Well I had my ultrasound yesterday...I'll write more about that experience when I have the time and the emotional distance not to pound my keyboard flat (let's just say it was "an eventful emotional rollercoaster" and leave it at that right now) but some interesting news came out of my visit: Bug was the size of a baby whose mom is 7 weeks 1 day pregnant, not 8 weeks 2 days pregnant. I kept trying to tell everyone that I should count things differently because of my late ovulation date (21 days into my cycle rather than 14) but did anyone listen? Nooooooo. (insert smug facial expression here)

I know it is twisted, but I get an overwhelming sense of satisfaction having been proven right, even though I know it comes at the expense of waiting that much longer to meet Bug. Other good stuff that came out of it? We got to see my little lima bean and his/her heartbeat and then we got to listen to it too! Waaaay cool.

The bottom line: I'm now due on November 23rd and Bug is still an embryo, not a fetus. I'm sure he or she will eventually get over it...after all, it isn't exactly like being kept behind a year in school...or is it?

Fetus Onboard! 8 week update

Heya all. Well now Bug has officially graduated from embryo to fetus.


Follow this link to Baby Center's 8 week update.

And this one to The Visible Embryo website.

And the 3D picture of Buggero is here.

Personal Update: I'm certainly not as tired as yesterday (hallelujah!) but I'm not exactly doing backflips here at work either. I should be raring to go after all the sleep I got yesterday but that's apparently not how this pregnancy thing works. I'm also going to my first ultrasound today and I'm busily trying not to worry that they are going to get me in there and tell me that this pregnancy thing is all in my head.

I was watching TV with Scott last night and a commercial for DQ came on at one point. I mumbled something about ice cream sounding good and the boy actually got up, put on his jacket, and went to the store to buy me some Rolo ice cream (my favourite)!
At 10pm!
I was completely shocked because I meant it in a "Note to self: buy ice cream the next time we go to the grocery store" kind of way but I think he felt so bad about how bad a day I had just had that he decided I had to have the ice cream that very minute.

Awww...knew I married him for a reason. He's a fabulous ice cream pimp.

Maybe I'm not stupid now because of the hormones...

I found this pic on a blog I found called I Can Has Cheezburger. This guy is hilarious. I laughed until I fell asleep midgiggle.

ZZZZZZZ

Happily, I'm one of those lucky few who's job is flexible enough and my boss understanding enough that I can work at home when necessary...and today turned out to be one of those days.

The problem is that today work consists mostly of me simply trying to stay conscious. Easy, you might (mistakenly!) think for someone sitting bolt upright at her computer desk but instead it is proving remarkably difficult, especially while simultaneously trying to string together coherent sentences. If I could submit monosyllabic legal arguments then I would be set but since that is typically frowned upon, I'm screwed.

The one thing I resent about pregnancy so far is the drains on my time like the constant pee breaks (and the bloating if I'm going to be honest) but today the drain is a more literal one. I'm blindingly exhausted.

Soexhaustedpressingthespacebarisjusttoomuchofaneffortformenow.

Earlier today I thought my energy levels would improve if I ate. Not so much. In fact, my brain decided that eating was a nap signal. Not a lot of legal argument but I had a very vivid dream about my mother and I wandering around India and meeting a woman possessed by the Hindu goddess Kali.



(*Note: woman in dream wasn't blue or as hot as Heidi Klum and she certainly wasn't on a red carpet anywhere but you get the general idea. Scaaary)

When I regained consciousness, I thought it would get better if I drank lots of water...apparently another rookie mistake. I'm actually so bloody tired that I resent the effort it takes to raise my glass! Where's my hospital straw when I need it? Better yet, where's my husband to raise my glass to my parched pregnant lips whenever I manage to mumble "water"? Oh yeah, he's at work. Pfft...what a slacker!

Oh god! I just realized the phone I'm trying to dial to harass said husband about his failure to live up to his end of this pregnancy bargain is actually my stapler. Guess that explains why I couldn't find the damn numbers!

No shoe left behind!

I just found out something that rocked my world. Apparently your feet get bigger when you are pregnant and they often never go back to their pre-pregnancy size! Whaaaaaaaaaaaat? No one ever told me this crappy biological factoid. Not my mother. Not my friends. What the hell?

I'm in the process of spring cleaning (you know during those rare interludes between pee breaks, trying not to vomit and frequent naps) and it has highlighted the fact I have a closet FULL of awesomely cute shoes, some of which I've never worn (a thinly veiled hint to my dear husband that we're overdue for a night on the town the very first time I don't feel like I'm dying). I mean, I'm no Manolo Maniac or a Jimmy Chooist (well I am but I don't have the $$'s to actually act on those obsessions) but I have lots of shoes. Cute shoes that are the size I've been for most of my adult life and now I've learned that I may have to give up on them because my traitorous feet are going to swell and never regain their prepregnancy size. Oh. My. Gawd.

"As God is my witness, as God is my witness they're not going to lick me. I'm going to live through this and I'll wear every single pair before I turn into a canoe-footed momma. Every single one. If I have to lie, steal, cheat or kill. As God is my witness, I'll wear every single pair."