Here’s the second installment of weekly updates, bringing us up to speed.
Adam is adorable and has taken to calling me whenever he passes a grocery store to see if I need anything picked up.
After a few days where I panicked because my morning sickness disappeared, it’s back with a vengeance and I start most days by spitting bile into the toilet.
Even as I do this I think “I don’t mind… I don’t mind”. I am so aware of how tenuous this new life, how extravagantly lucky we were to conceive at all and to have seen a heart- a real beating heart!
As a result I am superstitiously careful not to complain too much, not to whine, to couch any negative statements with a thick cushion of cheery proclamations like “Yes I’ve been getting sick…but it’s worth it for a healthy baby!”.
I have become a lucky charm clutching Pollyanna - determined to appreciate (even if I don’t enjoy) every second of this headachey, bile-infested first few weeks.
This week our embryo graduates to “Fetus” status! I mark the occasion with a celebratory midday nap.
This is also the week of craving a specific food sooo intensely, going out of my way to procure said food (often at great expense, both financial and logistical) only to take one or two bites and get absolutely sickened by said food.
From love to hate, craving to repulsion, all in the span of mere moments. It’s like having gold turn into shit in your hands or mouth, or whatever, it sucks (but I don’t mind! I don’t mind!)
We are in the kitchen one sunny morning, Adam is sipping his coffee and feeding Gus. As a special treat he puts some plain yogurt on top of his kibble, and as he sets the yogurt container down beside me I get a whiff and start dry heaving.
I don’t have time to make it to the toilet so I run to the sink. Adam stares in astonishment as my retching becomes more violent and I realize that since he’s usually gone before me in the mornings he’s never seen this before. As he stands there with his mouth agape, watching me, fat drops of blood begin to fall into the sink- my nose is bleeding.
And then I see myself from his eyes, bloated, last-night’s mascara caked around my eyes because I was too tired to remove it before bed, puking and bleeding into our kitchen sink.
I start crying.
“DO something!” I wail and Adam stands immobilized for a few more seconds before he reaches into his pocket, gets his phone and starts TAKING A VIDEO.
Sweet Jesus fuck. I can’t believe he’s still alive.
We hear the heartbeat.
I am lying on the couch in my midwifes office as she places the doppler on my stomach and immediately we hear it, a loud primal thrumming. Tears stream down my face as we listen to it echoing through the room, strong and loud and steady.
We are lucky, I think to myself, so lucky.
Adam sits across from me, beaming.
On the ride home we can’t stop imitating the sound, a strangely oceanic “Woah woah woah woah” . It makes puking in the gutter right before we went inside the office totally worth it. It makes everything worth it.
“Thank you” I whisper silently dozens of times that day, remembering the sound, “Thank you”.
I spend Easter weekend at my in-laws, staring wistfully at the feasts they are famous for preparing. I still have no appetite, nausea still plagues me and I munch on saltines and soup, get to know the toilet in the guest bathroom on more intimate terms than I had ever wanted.
Towards the end of the week though, something changes, I feel…energetic! And while I still throw up about once a day, the ever present queasy nauseous feeling abates… I eat vegetables! I eat VEGETABLES!
I have energy! Is this what awaits me in the second trimester?!
I wake up full of pep, take Gus for a long walk, mow my lawn, clean my whole house top to bottom and do all of those niggling tasks that I’ve been putting off for the past one and a half months. I feel like Wonder Woman!
We decide to tell coworkers, friends. It’s harder than I thought, letting go of that fragile secrecy. It feels precarious and exposed having something this….delicate, just out in the world. I forbid my mother ( Facebook addict extraordinaire) from posting anything, it feels too invasive, too personal to splash all over a social networking site. (Here, apparently, it’s fine ;)
When I do tell people, I am amazed over and over how much happiness spills over, how truly, genuinely excited people are. After all the worrying, it feels amazing to not have to hide something, to be able to talk about it, finally.
14 Weeks- This week!
I feel as though I suddenly have a little round belly that I can’t suck in anymore. It’s still in the phase where I just look like I have a tiny potbelly instead of a baby, but it’s strange nonetheless to see my silhouette changing.
This is also the week I lose my wedding ring. Doing laundry one morning I go to fidget with it and feel in its place a bare naked expanse of finger. I never take it off, have no recollection of removing it, have no idea where it could be. I’m heartbroken and I scour our house from top to bottom looking for it but as yet, it remains hidden.
We bought our rings made of recycled gold from a lovely woman on Etsy, and had them engraved with one word inside. I toy with the idea of simply ordering another, but like an obstinate child I don’t want a NEW ring, I want MY ring.
I’m desperately hoping I find it soon.
(…and now we’re all caught up! BOOM!)