Yesterday was my birthday. Scott made me breakfast and apologized for not having something planned. He originally had a great plan, to take me to a climbing gym in Kansas City and then spend the day there and get dinner or see a movie together. Well, my doctor was the buzz kill on that one when she said I can't be bouldering or rock climbing while pregnant. Too risky. All it takes is one unfortunate fall. So . . . we just spent the day leisurely, reading and hanging out. We had dinner together, which was nice. I restrained from ordering a glass of wine.
I think I had my first pregnant-person craving today. We were at the laundromat and I was suddenly overcome by the thought of juicy, delicious spaghetti sauce. Everything else I thought of paled incredibly in comparison, and in fact I couldn't think of any food that I wanted that didn't include spaghetti sauce, like spaghetti or calzones or pizza. Scott, the wonderful husband that he is, went and got me trail mix (for the meanwhile) and spaghetti sauce. He made me lunch when we got home, and that spaghetti was everything I hoped and wished for.
Other than that, just feeling generally fatigued, and hungry. When I get hungry, it's fast and hard. I become ravenous. If I don't eat, I become very weak and have terrible headaches. I try to take a nap in the afternoon when the day permits, and that helps me feel better. I'm also pretty moody. It's like PMS on steroids. Like I said, though, Scott is the husband of my dreams, and he's taking it all in stride, and loving me anyway.
On another note, I bathed Rufus today. He was good, and stayed in the tub while I sudsed him up, but I think he felt violated or ashamed. Maybe I'm just projecting what he looked like he was feeling, who knows. At least he smells better now.
This pregnancy is changing everything. Rather, God is changing everything through this pregnancy. My schooling is going to have to change, so I can graduate sooner and take a semester off with the baby. Our plans in general will have to change. I'm not complaining, though. I really, really wanted to have kids, and here I am, pregnant with #1. Sometimes I'm not sure how long I'll be able to keep it a secret. It'll be nice to tell people at work, especially, because it will explain why I may seem different.
I have to plan the birth, too. I'm not (unless it becomes high-risk) going to deliver in a hospital, on my back, helpless, in a room with bright lights and too much noise, too many people. I don't want to feel like it's being done to me, I want to feel like I am the one birthing. I don't want to feel violated and helpless, I want to feel like a powerful vessel for the miracle of life. So I'll be looking into the community birth center in town, and finding a midwife.
It's a lot to think about, things that have never crossed my mind before, like which company makes the best highchair, and what questions do I ask a midwife?
One day at a time.
Like always.
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