Well, I'm currently 7.5 weeks pregnant, and have so far been blessedly free of any major symptoms. In fact, if it weren't for the sticks I've peed on and the preliminary OB/GYN visit, I'd consider questioning the fact that I was indeed pregnant. Because while I've had a few bouts of nausea, most have been directly connected to some sort of foul smell (which--apparently--my sense of smell might also be heightened). And yes, I've been feeling some fatigue, but even without the pregnancy I think that my crazy schedule of full-time job, soccer coaching, and part-time job would be enough to make me fatigued.
Recently, though, a dairy aversion has started to set in. Not all dairy, just, well, chunky dairy. Like yogurt (but not the frozen stuff) and cottage cheese (and that's the last time you'll hear me mention those items until this aversion is long gone. *Shudder*). And, naturally, according to one of those fancy week-by-week pregnancy updaters, I find out that around eight weeks my dear parasite (call it what you want--the darn thing is a parasite. I love it to death--but it's still a parasite) begins the ossification of it's bones. Excellent. Just the time to get a dairy aversion (as Darrell pointed out, the whole vomiting and food aversion thing all seem very counter-intuitive to what a pregnant woman's body is trying to do). So, I casually send Darrell an email letting him know that we'll need to make a conscious effort to get dairy-rich foods into my diet (like broccoli and spinach), as well as plenty of the actual dairy items that I can still tolerate (which, thankfully, still includes milk and cheese). And oh, speaking of cheese--cheese and crackers sounds delicious. And that was it for the email. Just a casual mentioning of cheese and crackers. Well, I get home that night to find a platter with not one, but two different types of cheeses all sliced up and ready to eat, and a box of Triscuits. Ah-mazing.
And to make this even more outstanding--this is all happening during a week where my schedule is straight ridiculous. Monday and Wednesday both I was working at Excel until eight, and today (Thursday) we have soccer in Vermillion, which means I won't be getting home until after nine. And oh, did I mention that it also happens to be Labor Day weekend this weekend, and Darrell and I are supposed to be getting ready to head out to Wisconsin to go camping? And that, because of the drive, we are needing to leave immediately after practice/work Friday afternoon so everything needs to be ready to go before then? Needless to say, Darrell is pretty much taking care of everything. And not just everything that we need for camping, but everything that needs to get done around the house as well. Like making dinners (and cleaning up--every night this week). And doing laundry. And who knows what else. It's safe to say I'm pretty darn lucky.
Side note: I considering typing this up--sans pregnancy references since we haven't officially told anyone yet--and publishing it on the day that it was actually happening, but I was too worried that the ever-intuitive Mama Shirley (and even Darrell's sisters) might start to get a little suspicious because Darrell was being too nice for just normal day-to-day stuff. And since we already have pretty fun ideas in mind for how we want to tell our families (with surprise being a key element), I couldn't risk publishing this and raising any red flags. So, off to sit in my "Drafts" folder it goes.
11/26 Update: You know that dairy aversion I mentioned? Hasn't really gone away. Although it has gotten a little better--I can actually say the word "yogurt" without gagging and a few weeks ago I had a (small) spoonful of cottage cheese. And I don't have to banish Darrell to a different room of the house if he wants to eat yogurt. Thank goodness milk and cheese are still a-okay though. Oh, and this post is also the last time you'll hear me refer to the baby as a "parasite"; despite my very accurate reasonings for calling the baby such, Darrell was none too thrilled with that moniker. Instead, we coined the name BOB (Baby On Board) to refer to the baby. So if you hear us use that name, that's why. We have no idea if baby is a boy or not--and no intent of using the name BOB even if it is a boy.
11/26 Update: You know that dairy aversion I mentioned? Hasn't really gone away. Although it has gotten a little better--I can actually say the word "yogurt" without gagging and a few weeks ago I had a (small) spoonful of cottage cheese. And I don't have to banish Darrell to a different room of the house if he wants to eat yogurt. Thank goodness milk and cheese are still a-okay though. Oh, and this post is also the last time you'll hear me refer to the baby as a "parasite"; despite my very accurate reasonings for calling the baby such, Darrell was none too thrilled with that moniker. Instead, we coined the name BOB (Baby On Board) to refer to the baby. So if you hear us use that name, that's why. We have no idea if baby is a boy or not--and no intent of using the name BOB even if it is a boy.
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