October 28^th, 2013

Holy sweet Moses, pregnancy sucks. Like. I know a woman's sense of smell is way better when she's pregnant. I guess I assumed that food would taste super awesome too. Like all your senses would be heightened.

BUT NO. No, when you smell more, you get sick more and NOTHING tastes right. Nothing tastes good at all when you're pregnant. So my mom bought me these things called "Preggie Pops" that are supposed to help ease morning sickness (which is poorly named, because it happens aaaall day long).

Yeah, I visited my mom, step dad  and two youngest brothers yesterday. We carved pumpkins and had chili and it was a lot of fun. This was my pumpkin (credits go to Amy for helping).

And on Saturday, I went to see Anberlin and I met Stephen Christian. Photographic proof:

Lastly, my baby is seven weeks now (at least until the doctors re-age him or her. He's the size of a blueberry and his brain is becoming very complex. And he's 10,000 times the size he was when he was conceived.

October 24^th, 2013

So I guess the reason I haven't written in the past couple of days is because I don't particularly feel pregnant. Except for, like, a weirdly heightened sense of smell and sore boobs and occasional nausea (and we can't forget the exhaustion), I really don't feel it.

I want to. I want to know my baby is in there and that he's going to be okay.

But I have to be patient. There's a lot of stuff I need to do before I can meet him (or her).

In the meantime I will avoid the smell of milk and laundry detergent.

I can't wait for my doctor's appointment in November. (The 7^th.)

October 21^st, 2013

Well yesterday was full of marvelous pregnancy symptoms. Mild nausea by the laundry detergents, an undeniable craving for Cheetohs, which is really super gross. Also Sushi. Sushi and Cheetohs.

See also: Insatiable horniness, random mood swings. And, my god, the exhaustion.

Right now I'm watching the Queen Latifah Show and eating oatmeal (because, apparently, Cheetohs aren't acceptable breakfast foods when you're pregnant [or ever]).

Today is a good day though. It marks week 6 of my pregnancy (for real this time). That means my baby is the size of a pea. And my child's heart is beating about as much as mine is.

Here, behold the midget wonder!

I won't be taking a picture of me yet, because I look exactly the same. Well, mostly. More acne (a common symptom of pregnancy) and also like really bloated. Apparently your liquid content doubles. I'm supposed to gain FOUR pounds of blood. Four pounds. Of blood. This means I won't be able to suck in my gut. Bah.

I'll do me-pictures monthly instead of weekly, like my far cuter (kinda) cherub.

Another marker of the sixth week is that this is when nausea usually kicks in the door of your stomach and decides to stay until your scond trimester (week 14). You don't have to have morning sickness, but 75% of women do.

So the odds look superb.

Something important happened a couple days ago. I talked to Eddie's mom. I feel pretty good about it. She is really, really kind and is planning on inviting me over for dinner sometime next month. Next time Eddie visits.

I'm nervous because:

A) It feels kind of like an interview. I'm trying out for the role of Mother of Your Grandchild. Obviously she doesn't have much of a choice and the most important person in my child's life is going to be me, not her or Eddie. But it still is nervewracking. (None of this is based in fact or anything Eddie's mom, Karen, said to me. Just wacky feelings.)

B) Seeing Eddie again might be weird. I'm a little afraid that he will be bitter towards me. Just not sure how it'll go and not knowing things drives me crazy.

I plan on announcing my pregnancy to Facebook on the 7^th after my appointment. I also am going to a Care Net banquet that night. (Care Net being a really awesome non-profit for women who find themselves pregnant and in crisis. Care Net upholds the idea that even unborn life is beautiful and should be protected.)

It seems appropriate that that is the day I share it with the world and embrace the oncoming storm of "Did you hear about Bri?" And I want to give Eddie time to break the news to people he knows the way he wants to, other than he said she said crap, which we all know will happen.

I'm really glad to have continuing conversation with the father of my child. Gives me hope that we might be able to manage this FWB situation (Friends With Baby).

October 19^th, 2013

One downside to having Eddie's involvement is that he has a vote on names and might hate the ones I chose. And he might have his own opinions. Like during idle chatter a few months ago, he said his family names are Edmond and Louis.

Negatory on the Louis and I don't think I could call my son the same thing I call his dad. I'd consider it as a middle name though.

^^^ So after I wrote that at, like, nine in the morning, after taking a shower and eating breakfast. I proceeded to watch a couple episodes of Friends and then, would you believe it? I was exhausted.

Whew, all that creative energy spent. -_-

I guess what happens is that, when you're pregnant, your body is so busy, not only making a baby, but also the placenta, that you're about as tired as though you've hiked a mountain. That's not made up. It's a statistic. Jess (the woman I met with who has five kids under the age of seven) divulged that one to me.

And I do feel it. I'm still tired, after my nap. And now work. V_V

October 18^th, 2013

Two big things happened today, so naturally I present today's blog in two parts.

Part 1: I Was Right And Karma Is A Bitch

Jonica, my dear roommate, went to find out the gender of her baby today. She's twenty weeks, so it's more than time to figure that shit out. She really wanted a girl because it would be her parent's first grandmother. So I always teased her that she would have a boy.

I WAS RIGHT HA.

But.

Now I know I'll have a girl. Despite my own mild to moderate hopes. (I've decided either will work. My roommate is right. The name really does make it okay. Lydia. <3)

Whoa, two McDonald's workers just went into the warehouse alone. You know they're doing something dirty.

Anyhey, Jonica is having a boy who she has named John Henry and he's going to be so cute! Apparently he's really long. (His body, not that. But apparently that too.) And I'm excited for her! And she's excited too, despite how not-girly he is.

I'mma have a nephew, J-Man!

Okay, onward to the next segment of today's not-sucky post.

Part 2: Sometimes People Surprise You

VIRTUE

FEELINGS

This is the philosophy I was taught growing up. That, while feelings have their place, always elevate virtue over feelings. Clearly I don't always partake, but you know who has lately?

Eddie.

That's right.

At 11:19 am today I got a phone call from him. The topics we discussed are as follows;

Eddie: So... I get the impression that you want us to end up together.

Me: Lol, no.

(I thought that was pretty funny though, and I think the entirety of my body blushed.)

Eddie: Are you sure you're pregnant? Are you sure it's mine?

Me: Yes. Yes.

(Yes.)

Eddie: Aspergers makes me a jerk.

Me: Clearly.

(He basically told me how it is unlikely he'll care for the child, a symptom of his autism. Not a matter of personal desire not to care. I secretly think he will one day.)

Eddie: But I will be involved.

Me: Eep.

(Huge relief.)

Me: How does being at the boy-or-girl appointment and at the hospital after the baby is born and once monthly after that sound for involvement?

Eddie: That sounds like a very reasonable place to start.

(WINWINWIN.)

So I know I might be too excited about this, but until now I was thinking he had already chosen not to be there for me or the baby. But he told me he will be when I need him, to message or text him if I'm ever freaking out (he confessed he won't be much help) and to keep him updated on what's going on.

I don't think anyone will understand how this, even just this, makes it all okay now. I don't even really understand why, but it does and I am so happy. And once again, excited over my baby.

>squee<

October 17^th, 2013

I wake up a lot during the night (I always have). Most of the times I fuzzily wonder "Am I still pregnant?"

That's easy to figure out. I just poke my boobs. Ow.

They really aren't kidding about the sore boobs. Nothing compared to period soreness. I don't even want to know what my boobs are gonna look like in a few months, but apparently they can get three sizes bigger. I'm a DD already. DDD, E, F?

Is that right? Is "F" even a size in the U.S.?!

Anyway, I followed this routine a lot last night, but it's 6:33 now and I've given up on trying to fall back to sleep. I'm not a night person regardless of my desires to be so. I'm usually ready for bed by eleven at the latest and I am never, ever in bed past ten without being sick or having stayed up ridiculously late the night before.

That might actually help with the parenting thing, I think.

Later today I am going to meet up with Mrs. Jessica B. She is phenomenal, my parenting idol. This woman has five children all under the age of seven and would you believe that they are all well behaved, brilliant kids?

They are. Because Jess knows how to parent unlike anyone I've ever met, and I fully plan on taking advantage of her expertise. I also hope that she'll doula for me...

(English class time! A doula is a woman who assists in a birth. However, she is meant specifically to assist the birthing mother, whereas most of the other medical personnel in the birthing room are there predominantly for the baby. She presents knowledge on different birthing positions [would you believe you don't have to be on your back!], is able to stand up for the birth plans and wishes of the mother and, if a father or partner is involved, she can help him or her do their best to help the mother without taking over the partner's job.)

(Having a doula in your birthroom drastically decreases your chances of needing a C-Section, labor induction, pain relief, or any ther kind of medical interference with what is and should be [in most low-risk cases] a very natural part of a woman's life. If you are going to have a baby, get a doula. They are vital.)

I have to drop off a job application today. Kinda sucks because, like, I wanna do something I'm good at, but my strengths seem to be limited to customer service. I'm not fast nor do I put together puzzles at any great speed. I am not assertive or competitive and my memory sucks. But, goodness, customers love me. I like people. People are my strength. Retail isn't necessarily.

Bah. I'll get the job that I need to get. Barring that, I'll beg for money on the street corner.

Baby news is starting to spread. I told a loose-lipped person, so I should have known. But yeah, it's getting out there. I told Eddie that I'd wait two weeks from the day I broke the news to him before I'd share the info on the interwebs, but at this point, I don't think I'll need to.

Exception to my two-week-delay in telling folks: If the father decides he isn't up for a compromise and that he will not be in the child's life. Then screw him, the information is mine to share.

Other exception: If he decides he can compromise but needs or asks for some more time to get used to the idea. I'd happily keep it quiet for my whole first trimester if that helps him help us.

Anyway, here is an illustration of what I think my roommate's birth scene is going to look like:

My boobs and my belly are going to have to apply for their own citizenship.

October 16^th, 2013

I was pretty sure I'd be talking to Eddie today. He messaged me on Facebook telling me that he would call me, provided he get his phone issues worked out.

But it's nearing 8pm and I haven't gotten a phone call. I figure either his phone is still out of business or he's a tad too nervous to talk to me quite yet.

I'd really like to stay optimistic here and imagine the best. Maybe he'll read my messages to him and see how much I need him and we can work on a compromise.

Yeah, maybe I guess. But more likely is that he's already made up his mind to take the easy way out.

Everything I've heard is that even people with aspergers can work through things like this. And he really can if he were to give it a try. It'd all be worth it.

But like I said, I think he's decided to trade his integrity and backbone for an easier life.

I can do it alone if I have to, though. I just really, really would rather have his support. Especially considering he is just as much a "culprit" as I am. I mean, we discussed this. Both before and after the sex in question.

I just hope he knows it's the wrong decision. Morally wrong, yes. But he's missing out on someone brilliant, and that's wrong too.

I bought this today because it is cute and I wanted to log this stuff away for my son or daughter to read one day.