A series of thoughts during weeks 7-10. Warning: May contain TMI
Well it finally happened.
I ripped a hole in the ass of my pajama pants by doing LITERALLY NOTHING. And don’t you dare come after me with that misuse of “literally” crap or I will literally kill you. By which I mean I will end your life, which is the literal meaning of “kill you.”
Morale has slightly improved. Somehow have to get to four plays this weekend and write reviews, which should be interesting. Heartburn has ensued, possibly as a side effect of the old people fiber pills I am taking.
A series of cruel jokes by my husband:
As I’m choking down a Ritz cracker crumb by crumb: “Did you know that pregnancy permanently makes you gluten intolerant?”
“Your symptoms are so strong. . . What if it’s twins?!” *
A later variation:
“What if it’s triplets?”
“I don’t want triplets!”
“Well then we can give one away!”
So far I have puked in the following locations:
– My mouth
– The shoulder of the freeway
– The bushes outside my front door (digging for my keys nauseated me)
-The plants outside the theatre
– The middle of the freeway (the car was stopped in traffic)
– The Safeway parking lot
– A beer stein (I had apple juice in it)
– Through my nose
“Morning” sickness is a lie. I am nauseous ALWAYS. Whenever my stomach growls from hunger, I snap, “Oh shut up, you don’t mean that.”
That sad moment after going to the bathroom when you realize that a majority of your “baby bump” was actually just your impacted colon.
I am so grateful for M Fox for many many reasons, but I wanted to give a shout out specifically for how patient he is with all the crumbs in our bed. I’m also grateful Seattle doesn’t have ants.
*He was right. We are having twins. Yes, I’m serious.