Imagination Overload (in Reverse)

(13 September)

So, back when Darrell and I were trying to get pregnant, I wrote a post about how my imagination got the best of me and I perceived everything to be a sign of an impending pregnancy. Well, now that I am actually pregnant, it's like the opposite is true. Any sign or symptom that may be indicative of a pregnancy I dismiss and blame on some other cause. Case in point:

The fatigue I've been feeling? Definitely caused by the fact that I'm still adjusting to being back at work full-time (summers off can almost be a curse), in addition to coaching soccer every day and working until eight at Excel one or two nights a week. Totally not a pregnancy symptom.

The oh-so-wonderful acne that has started to pop up? Probably being caused by the fact that I always sleep on the same side of my face and haven't washed my pillowcase very recently (gross, I know). Definitely not because my skin is more sensitive due to my pregnancy.

The middle of the night trips to the bathroom? Two factors at work here. A) I'm getting older and all the times I strove to hold it as long as I could are finally catching up to me. B) I've been drinking a crap ton of water throughout the day, including into the evening, and, well, it's gotta come out sometime. Not being caused by the fact that my uterus is at least twice its normal size.

Any food aversions/cravings I've been having? Puh-leeze. I was queen of random food cravings years before I was pregnant. And I blame my yogurt/cottage cheese (shudder) aversion on the fact that just before the aversion hit I decided to try Greek yogurt for the first time and didn't particularly like it. Completely unrelated to pregnancy.

My (somewhat) heightened sense of smell? Like being around sweaty high school boys and drowned-in-purfume (and purfume-y lotion) high school girls wouldn't be enough to trigger anyone's sense of smell into overdrive, pregnant or not.


Now, here's the thing. I am actually intelligent enough to realize that all these symptoms are, in fact, being caused by my pregnancy (they're seriously in every thing I've read about first trimester symptoms. Along with swollen, tender breasts, which actually haven't been bothering me at all. But that really isn't too surprising; my breasts have always been under-achievers anyway). And I also realize that I am incredibly fortunate that my symptoms haven't been any more severe than they are. For whatever reason, though, my mind's first instinct is to dismiss them as signs of pregnancy and blame them on something else. I've come up with two reasons for why I think that might be.

1) I'm a stubborn ass who secretly likes to one-up other people. Oh, that movie was too scary for you? Pfft, it was no big deal for me. You went to the doctor for a cut on your finger? I didn't even go when my tooth got kicked through my lip (true story actually--and, in retrospect, probably a very dumb decision, but oh well). Two pieces of pizza was enough to fill you up? C'mon, I ate four plus five breadsticks (probably also true a true story, especially when I'm comparing my eating habits to those of my sister). So it would only be fitting that I would (subconsciously) approach my pregnancy in the same way and strive to get through it without being plagued by the "normal" symptoms because, well, I'm above the average person anyway.

2) I'm secretly terrified that I won't be able to carry this baby to term, so I'm building up a wall to keep myself from getting too emotionally attached. Because if we end up getting bad news at the doctor's office on Monday (I'll be just over ten weeks so I'm assuming/hoping they'll do an ultrasound), I can convince myself that it really isn't that big of a deal because I never "felt" pregnant anyway so it isn't that major of a loss. Darrell has already admitted that anything but good news would be devastating to him, so I'm trying to make sure that isn't the case for me (and therefore--like mentioned above--"one up" him because I was better prepared for the worst case scenario).

I realize I come out as a horrible person in both scenarios--in the first I'm a conceited brat, and in the second I'm a callous, pessimistic, worrywart--but there's probably some truth to both of them. Thankfully, my personality is made up of more than just the sum of those two parts, and you can bet your balls that once this pregnancy starts to feel a little bit more real I'll let my guard down and really start to get excited about things. In the meantime, though, I'll just be a slightly conceited person that doesn't fully believe in this pregnancy yet, okay? And you won't even have to deal with it anyway since none of these posts will be going live until well after I'm in the "excited" stage.

12/4 Update: Well, I'm 21 weeks now and we still haven't gotten an ultrasound, but I'm not concerned about that in the least. We've heard the heartbeat, I've been feeling kicks--this pregnancy is definitely real. However, I will say that I still feel like Darrell is more excited than me. Not because I'm still trying to (subconsciously) prepare myself for a worst-case scenario, but because the reality of the kicking and movement is making me realize that this is actually happening--whether we're ready for it or not. And sometimes, I feel like maybe we aren't.