As of Sunday (eh, last Sunday… procrastination rules my life, apparently), I’ve officially entered the second trimester of my pregnancy.
That is the craziest sentence I’ve ever written. Also, this is the craziest I’ve ever felt/acted… they’re not kidding when they say pregnancy hormones make a woman lose her shit.
For example, last week I cried for at LEAST 45 minutes about a coat rack. More specifically, that it was still hanging in the same place on the wall in our bedroom. And when I say I cried, it would be more accurate to say I sobbed uncontrollably on the floor of my office. Gasping for air. Like someone had died or I just discovered I had cancer or something else equally horrible. But no. It was the coat rack.
What the actual fuck? I mean, I’ve always been a very emotional person – passionate about everything, FEELING every FEELING hard. But in that moment, I thought the fact that the coat rack hadn’t been moved meant that The Fiance wasn’t giving his all in our relationship. That he was putting himself first, above something simple I had asked him multiple times to do. NEVERMIND that he’d been working on the yard practically nonstop getting it ready for our wedding. NEVERMIND he’s been practically waiting on me hand and foot because being pregnant has left me completely and utterly exhausted. No, nevermind all that. HE DIDN’T MOVE THE COAT RACK WHILE I WAS GALAVANTING AROUND VEGAS HAVING THE TIME OF MY LIFE.
Like I said, what the actual fuck? True, I’ve always been a very emotional person. But at the same time, I’ve always been a pretty level-headed and rational person. Not so much these days, apparently.
Luckily, I can at least eat pasta again. Stuffed pastas – think ravioli and tortellini – are still off limits (GAG PUKE EW), but at least the thought of spaghetti (which has always been a staple meal at our house) and pasta salads don’t make me want to run away screaming.
Other events of note:
- At our second prenatal appointment – May 17, at 11 weeks and 2 days – we got to hear the baby’s heartbeat! I didn’t think it would impact me the way it did, but as soon as I heard our little peanut’s heart pounding away, I fell to pieces and am now even more in love with this little one than I was before.
- Pants are definitely becoming tighter. I keep telling people it’s because of the 5 meals a day (and all the snacks in between) I’m eating now, and it’s definitely not a baby bump, but who am I kidding? Weekly belly photos have got to start NOW or I’m going to kick myself later.
- TMI warning: I’m having definite issues with my bras. As in, a lot of them don’t exactly fit anymore. But this turns out to be a good thing, because a swim suit I took to Vegas actually fit me up top, where it used to almost fall off. Bonus. (Also the inspiration behind Nicole‘s suggestion that my blog title be Fuck Yeah Pregnancy! Project: Get Fuck Yeah Pregnancy Tumblr was a failure.)
- I had a whole lot of other things to add to this post while it was hanging out in my drafts for the past few days, but I forgot them. I guess that’s something to mention on its own, though: My memory is shit. I mean, my memory was pretty horrible in the first place, but now? Shit.
This is the ultrasound from my first doctor’s visit. I was 6 weeks, 3 days pregnant. (For reference: today – Wednesday, June 1 – I’m 13 weeks, 3 days). At first I was really weirded out by showing the internet pictures of the inside of my uterus, but… fuck it. There’s our peanut! Actually, the dark part that looks like a lima bean is my uterus (hello, world!), and that litttttle white oval-ish thing near the top left is the wee one. In this ultrasound, the baby is a teeeeeny 0.58 centimeters. According to my reading, our little one is the size of a plum, has tiny ribs and vocal cords are starting to develop. Cue head explosion.
Also, why are fetuses always compared to food, size-wise? All it does it make me hungry (er… hungrier).