Pregnancy!

In the first trimester you're all happy about the little secret you have. You hold it with you, not ready to tell everyone yet, bubbling with excitement, but still a little wary of the what ifs. You get hit with the nausea, but are grateful because that means that something is working, so this is one of the rare times in life where you are happy to puke your guts out. Then you complain that you are losing weight, while secretly high fiving yourself, considering this the easiest diet ever! You get to have the first ultrasound that shows the wee heartbeat and you breathe a sigh of relief, finally confirming that you do, indeed, have a parasite. You contemplate telling the world, but settling for those closest to you. And you nap, a lot.

In the second trimester you can start with a big ol' sigh of relief, you're out of the woods, although you kinda already knew that when you saw the heartbeat. But through traditional wisdom you know you're safe. You've stopped puking, you feel more energized and you want to eat. So you do. Everything in sight. Cravings are blissful, when else can you get away with peanut butter by the tablespoon full alongside cottage cheese? You walk around with a glow about you, proud of your wee baby bump that you wish would grow faster so that it's more obvious that you're pregnant. You start to lament the weight gain you're having, but remind yourself that you need that peanut butter, it's for the baby. After all you're eating for two now! Sometime soon you'll feel the first little flutters of your precious baby bean. You exalt in them, trying to get your partner to feel them also. Often failing because your belly bean is so tiny.

In the third trimester you curse the second trimester you for being so damn perky. Your back aches, your pelvis aches, your boobs ache, your hips ache, you ache everywhere. You're damn tired and all you want to do is sleep, but you ache too much to sleep. The baby like to jive on your bladder sending you to pee every 10 minutes, you're going through a lot of toilet paper now. Then every now and then the baby will punch your cervix, just to remind you who's boss. You're ravenously hungry, but more than 2 bites of food gives you heartburn from hell. So does water. You've renamed your baby from some cutsey name like "Buttercup" to "Ass burger" or "Devil's Spawn". You remind the baby that feet and ribs should not meet, and "No Devil Spawn you cannot escape though my belly button!" Your feet swell, your hands swell, you swell. You've lost your glow, it's now a fine sheen of sweat, if you're sitting, if you're walking across the room it's much more than a fine sheen. You curse the women who talk about doing full workouts when they're heavily pregnant. You want pants that fit and don't chafe. You think a lot about birth and how wonderful it will be to finally hold your baby, and when you do, it will all be so worth it.