Pleasant & Unpleasant

For the last few months of my life I have become acutely aware of what is pleasant and what is unpleasant. I think we've told most of our friends and family that we're expecting (and more specifically I'm expecting because after all this is about me and I'm the poor schmo who has to go through this decidedly unpleasant experience). So if I haven't told you, don't feel unloved, it's really just because I am no longer functioning like a normal human being.

I digress.

So my absence as of late has been because I am physically unable to stay awake past 7PM. I also feel like poop on a stick. These two things in combination do not get the creative juices flowing. Something had to give. Actually many things, but we'll get to that in a moment.

So anyway, here are a few observations.

Unpleasant: After returning from vacation I went to put on a suit to go to work and discovered that my hips had spread. Something I didn't notice until nothing fit. I tried on every damn suit in the closet until I finally tried the fattest suit I own and found it barely fit. I looked decidedly inappropriate.

Pleasant: Due to suit situation above, I was forced into the maternity store early. I had two choices, buy bigger clothes or buy maternity. As much as I really hate the idea of maternity it seemed far more practical (and economical). Many, many maternity clothes make you look like a frickin cupcake, but on the upside they are the most comfortable things I have ever put on. Stretchy waistbands, flowy tops, I never knew it could be so good. No wonder those old ladies wear expandable "slacks".

Unpleasant: The constant feeling that I'm going to upchuck. I almost think that if I did puke I might feel better, but I just don't think it's in the cards. The only thing that keeps me somewhat non-nauseated is constantly eating. Sounds good right? Not really because I only feel good for about 10 minutes and then it's back to puke-town.

Pleasant: No matter how much I eat those stretchy pants will still fit.

Unpleasant: People at work think you're gaining weight. You're not positive that's what they're thinking because it's not like they're going to come out and tell you but you're relatively certain the way they do a double take when they see you coming. Although it could be a reaction to my change in dress. I'm not exactly the bohemian peasant top type of gal.

Pleasant: My hair seems thicker although that could be a figment of my imagination or my desire to derive some positive benefit from this whole experience.

Unpleasant: All the waiting at the doctor's office, consent forms, reading about things that might happen, figuring out how to fit a 3rd person into 1100 square feet, the weird smell that I smell when I walk into my house (what the hell is that??), the fact that I can't eat fish (both because of mercury and because it now makes me want to puke) and finally the fact that my house is a mess and my husband doesn't notice.

Pleasant: I have now justified, to myself, the need for a cleaning lady and I have started calling around to find one. Joy of all joy I will never mop another floor or clean a tub.

I think I'll end on a high note here. And in the event you were wondering, I am not part of the Gloucester County pregnancy pact. I just want to clear that up right now.