I'm so bad at blogging. Really. It's awful. I guess, as a journalist who writes all day, the last thing I want to do is come home and write more. Which isn't good for my goal of writing a book someday.
But I digress...
In April, Kevin and I found out we are expecting our first child! He or she will make their appearance in this world on or around Dec. 18.
At first, pregnancy was bliss. Pure bliss...mixed in with the occasional, "Oh my God, what did we do?" You know, the idea of bringing a life into this world that we're going to have to be responsible for for at least 18 years is...well...it's scary. It's not like we can give the kid back to its parents once we're tired of caring for it. Nope, this one is ours. We're stuck with it FOREVER.
Once we got past that point...well, hell, no...we're still not past that point quite yet and I've heard we never will be.
But once six weeks rolled around...the sickness kicked in. Good God. Eleven weeks of that bullcrap. And it's STILL not entirely gone.
Imagine how you feel when you have the flu. Shaky, exhausted, the need to hug the toilet all day, right? Yeah. Now imagine having that all day long, every day, for eleven weeks. It was agony.
Why they call it "morning sickness" I have no idea. It's a load of crap....
I cried constantly...feeling like a horrible mom-to-be when I'd yell "I cannot do this anymore! I don't want to be pregnant. Can I just be done already?" Of course, I really did want to be pregnant. I just didn't want to be sick. It sucked.
I still have bad days...but more often than not I feel good. Just tired. Dog tired. Like I could crawl into bed at 7 p.m. and sleep until 8 a.m. the next morning.
The other thing about being pregnant...it's the most womanly thing I've ever done, while also being the most unlady like thing possible. All the changes and all the weird, unladylike things that accompany it. I won't go into detail...but your privacy really goes out the door. I hear labor is even more unladylike. The ultimate unladylike experience possible. Yay.
Also, you start to freak out about what's happening to your body. I'm almost five months along and am starting to show - which is awesome. I don't just look like I've gained a little weight in my belly. I actually look like I'm pregnant.
Though when people ask me how far I am and I tell them, they say, "No way! You're tiny!" I guess that comes with having your first kid...and being tall and relatively in shape before I got pregnant.
People also ask me what we're having. We don't know yet. We find out in a little more than a week. But I feel 95 percent sure it's a boy. Why? I have no idea. I've always asked that question to pregnant people...my mom, my aunts, my sister. How did/do you know? And they couldn't answer it either...it's just a motherly instinct, they said.
Some people I know have had no idea what they're having. My mom was right on all three of us. My Aunt Trisha was right with all six of hers. My sister was right with her daughter. I'm hoping I carry that "sixth sense," too.
One reason I can say I'm sure I'm right...is because I want a girl (though truly it doesn't matter that much...as long as he or she is healthy...I'll be ecstatic). I just think dressing a girl up in frilly outfits and shoes and ribbons would be fun. But I cannot get the idea of a boy out of my head...so it makes me wonder. When I picture Baby Coffey, all I see is a boy with dark hair, blue eyes and dimples like his daddy. I can only picture a super hero nursery.
Wouldn't it be hilarious if I'm absolutely, totally wrong and it's a girl? Geez.
I guess we'll find out on Aug. 1.
Also...we're moving into our first house on Saturday. I can't wait to be a homeowner. The idea of so much room and being able to do WHATEVER I want is thrilling. Saturday cannot come soon enough. I'm never, ever, ever, ever, ever living in an apartment again!