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My heart is breaking, y’all. That gorgeous blue dress I ordered for the Navy Ball is on back order until 10/10. Considering that’s the actual date of the ball, I’m going to have to find something else. I am not looking forward to trying stuff on in person, since it takes fourteen tries to find the right size for the right designer. Online they have lovely little size charts, although I’ve been basing all my measurements of these ginormous melons attached to my chest since they’re currently the biggest part of me. Who knows what’s going to be sticking out by October. I may just give up and wear sweatpants and my “NOT FAT PREGNANT” shirt. At least then I could make the best of the all-you-can eat crabcakes.
So I know this post was days ago and I know no one was trying to insult me and I know I should probably think about something else – like how to get the new cat to stop pooping under the radiator or where the heck my husband is – but I’m incapable of dropping things. On Tuesday, Dodai posted a story on Jezebel about how she’s sick of hearing about “baby bumps” (Warning: profanity). I understood her opinion to be mostly about celebrities babies, because none of us know those kids, or will ever meet those kids, or will ever buy those kids birthday presents, so who cares? But some of the commenters expanded the idea to be about ANYTHING baby related. A couple people complained about their friend’s Facebook updates. To quote one of them:
“I don’t care about your morning sickness, your ultrasound looks like a blob, and the tummy photo updates are annoying (every week!!!!), not cute.”
One of the reasons I’m writing about my pregnancy in blog format is so I don’t annoy the crap out of people who are uninterested. It is possible to be friends with me and NOT hear about my uterus. I bet I even have friends who still don’t even know I’m pregnant. THAT BEING SAID, having a child is a huge deal for the person doing it. It consumes all your thoughts for most of your waking hours. You cannot escape your own body or how your body feels or all the crazy things your body is doing. But if I want to publish pictures of my belly on Facebook or let the people who really do care how my latest ultrasound went know, then you can just SHOVE IT baby-hater. Facebook is meant to be a huge waste of time where people can keep their friends informed of everytinydetail of their lives. These are some of the things my friends currently have as their statuses (statusi?):
__________ is on vacation!
_________had her Vietnamese sandwich fix. All is well once again.
_________is pleasantly surprised by her whole-wheat, angel hair pasta. It totally doesn’t taste like cardboard at all.
__________ could not be more excited about her 200+ channels of DirectTV with DVR if she tried! Kiss my ass, Comcast!
__________ doubts your commitment to Sparkle Motion.
Obviously, all those are vitally important and non-annoying.
Since I’ve been pregnant I’ve given up all the appropriate things. I pass on coffee. I switched to regular ginger ale instead of things with caffeine and artificial sweeteners. I haven’t touched alcohol. But yesterday I was dying for a Diet Coke to go with my cheeseburger. I was willing to risk thirty kinds of birth defects just for one sip of the drink I’ve been addicted to since I was ELEVEN. So I caved. I have a Diet Coke and it was DELICIOUS. Absolutely heaven.
But today, right around the time I had that Coke yesterday my head started pounding. Throbbing. It felt like someone was trying to pull my brain out through my eyeballs. I barely made it home from work before collapsing on the couch. I couldn’t even make it through Judge Judy before crawling up to my bed and passing out for two hours. Now it’s 8:30 at night and I’m still suffering. I know there’s a Diet Coke in the back on the fridge. I can hear it calling me. Drink me! Driiiiiink me! I’m the magical fairy of happiness who can take your pain awaaaaaaaay!
This is my punishment for breaking my caffeine ban.
…Will someone buy me this for Christmas?
Tonight E gave me the news that not only are we going to the semi-formal chief’s Khaki Ball in a few weeks, we’re also going to the formal Submarine Ball (or is it the Navy Ball?) in October. In the 7 years I have known him and the 4 years we’ve been married we have NEVER gone to a single Navy event, let alone one I need a fancy dress for. And since the Khaki Ball is cocktail attire and the Sub Ball is fancier, I’m going to need not one but TWO new dresses. Normally this idea would excited me – and also send me into a fit of working out, eating nothing but Slimfast, and cruising websites for discount designer attire. Instead I am freaking the heck out about how I buy a dress 4-6 weeks in advance when I’m gaining weight at roughly light-speed. The maternity store at my mall (the only maternity store in the area) has nothing resembling formalwear. It’s not prom season, and even if it was I don’t really think the slutty neon satin nightgowns that pass for prom dresses these days are appropriate for a 26 year old mother-to-be. (Not that I can’t be slutty, it’s the satin I have an aversion to.) I figure my best options are either to see what’s available in the – ugh – Women’s section of the department stores, or to find something online with a nice forgiving empire waist and a low price tag. Since I am not Angelina Jolie and I will never look like this my choices are limited. I think the words “empire waist” are definitely my new best friends.
I tried Bluefly, but even at “40% off designer prices!!!!!” I can only afford a third of a dress. Although I kind of love this one: Cocktail dress, I need someone to slap me and remind me tent dresses are for 8 foot tall models, not chubby preggers. In a moment of weakness I decided to Google “evening gowns” and ended up on the Spiegel site. This one: Blue dress, is super cheap, would be a great color on me, and has enough stretch to forgive a few pounds, but I’m afraid it’s not dressy enough. The “ankle length” part also scares me – what shoes do I wear? I may end up ordering this one: White dress, although I can’t help but think white may not be the right color for a pale blond. PLEASE SOMEONE HELP ME. Isn’t teen pregnancy common enough to make a site for maternity prom dresses? Pregnant girls deserve limo rides, awkward dancing, and forced socialization too.
In all my baby books, they put warnings in big letters telling you not to make any major decisions (if you can avoid it) while pregnant. Do not cut your hair. Do not sell your house. Do not get any pets. Do you think buying a boat counts as a major decision?
I’m suffering from this sudden panicky feeling that once I have a living, breathing baby outside of my womb my life is OVER and I will never have fun again. People keep asking me when I plan to trade my convertible for a sensible car, or even worse, a minivan. My parents use to tease that I cost them their catamaran, since once I came along there wasn’t time for sailing. At least I think they were teasing. I’ve been looking at pre-baby vacations, but with E’s crazy work schedule we’ll be lucky if he gets Christmas off this year, let alone a whole extra week between now and April. Plus this moody, irrational, crazy person occupying my body would probably get arrested if I tried to fly anywhere. What do you mean peanuts cost $5? You won’t like me when I’m hungry. Give me snacks!!!!!! So I’m trying to convince E that if we just took the money we would have spent on a vacation and put it towards a boat, it would be like going on vacation every weekend. It sounds totally reasonable to me, but at the moment I am a poor judge of “reasonable”. I can see why adding an extra expense would be less than responsible* but somehow that seems like a minor inconvenience compared to how awesome having a boat would be.
*Especially since I sent my boss as email today suggesting he consider looking for a replacement, as I don’t plan to stay forever. I may also have suggested he not leave me passive-agressive notes unless he wants to train a new person without my help. Morning sickness makes me cranky.
If you are related to me or E in any way, and/or are adverse to hearing about things done while naked, please skip this post. I am not trying to traumatize anyone.
Since E was picked up as chief, he’s been very busy, and when he hasn’t been busy, he’s been tired. Add weekend house guests, a three day business trip, and we’ve been suffering a bit of a dry spell in the doin’ it department. Nothing huge or astonishing, but it’s been a few days since we were both awake enough to make an effort. I am a big fan of a little morning sunshine (my grandmother’s term for orange juice, sorry Grandma!) so lets just say I was very happy this morning…at least until I actually got out of bed. Then it was like the morning sickness fairy punched me in the stomach. I managed to choke down some milk and my vitamin, only to have everything come back up as I walked in the door to my office. I even threw up the mint I was sucking on to get rid of the puke taste. I haven’t been this sick before – at least not with so much actual barfing – so I have to wonder if there’s some sort of correlation between my morning activities and my desire to throw up. I’ve never heard of one, none of the books warned me about it, and I will never forgive my baby if this is a continuous 9 month problem. Has anyone ever heard of this, or was it just an unlucky coincidence?
I didn’t sleep very well last night because I was busy composing my resignation letter in my head. It usually started with “Thank you for all the opportunities but I won’t be continuing with the company” and ended with “GOOD LUCK FINDING SOME OTHER SUCKER WHO WILL DO THIS JOB YOU UNGRATEFUL JERKS!!!” On the one hand my job is not demanding. It is not even full time. I don’t hate the parts that actually involve me doing my job. But my stupidity tolerance levels have reached an all-time low. I spent my entire day today creating a color-coded flow chart to show agents how to enter their listings into the online system. The worst part is it is exactly the same system they have all been using for at least 2 years. We all went through training for the new system but apparently they spent that time thinking about golf or shoes or puppies or something and just rely on me to know everything.
My real problem is I am not invested in this job. There is no advancement, no benefits, no bonuses. Even if I worked 40 hours a week and never took a day off, I’d barely be making $20k a year. With a move possible as soon as October, another move possible in February, the baby in April and then a move for surebefore the end of 2009, I’d rather spend my time enjoying this pregnancy instead of coming home frustrated and angry every day. I realize my privilege is showing terribly – the fact that I even have this choice makes me feel a little guilty. But one of the reasons we waited four years to have a child is so I could stay home, although I don’t know if staying home so soon was part of the plan.
I don’t know the appropriate way to tell my boss I just don’t care. I wish he’s bring up the fact that in 6 months I’m going to need at least a few weeks off, so I could mention he might want to start looking for a replacement. I could write pages and pages on all the things I’m not going to be able to train someone and pages and pages on why, if they were smart, my company would offer me the option to do most of my job from home. But I’ll keep (most of) my complaining to myself, and try to get up my nerve to turn in a short, polite, early resignation letter so no one can accuse me of abandoning the company.
Footnote: Yesterday made me want to quit. Today actually went pretty well, with lots of “good jobs” and “we appreciate yous”. I know in the long run I’m leaving one way or another, so why is it so hard to just SAY so?
I made my first official baby purchase tonight, thanks to Ohdeedoh. These are completely pointless and unnecessary for my tadpole as compared to, say, a crib or diapers, but so fun and appropriate I couldn’t pass them up:
And so perfect, since E is on submarines. Plus I’ve been thinking about doing an under-the-sea theme for the nursery, and this might have just made my decision for me.
E had to go out of town for a couple days so I’ve got the house to myself again. Usually I see this as a good thing and use my alone time to get stuff done – paint a room, work in the garden, take long walks with the dog, reorganize my sock drawer. Right now I don’t even have the energy to brush my hair, let alone start a major remodeling project. My natural laziness combined with the exhaustion of pregnancy has turned me into a slug. I did start painting the last part of the living room and the stairs. I got one coat on the parts I could reach and decided the blue painters tape is really a decorating statement. I’ll just leave it for now.
I tried to do laundry, but the one load I finished I just threw on the floor. I stripped all the beds and planned to wash the sheets, but forgot to put them in the dryer, so when I crawled up to bed at 9:30 (stop laughing) they were still soaked.I suppose there were dry sheets in the linen closet but that was up a whole other flight of stairs, much too far for me to walk. So I slept on a bare mattress hugging a bare pillow and used the dust ruffle I’ve been too lazy to put under the mattress as covers. Could I be any more pathetic?
This morning I had every intention of walking the dog but when I got downstairs I was too tired to put on my shoes. I found a stick, threw it once, and sat on the back porch watching the dog chew on it until he did his business behind the garage. I noticed that the grass is getting really long but the idea of trying to start the mower makes me dizzy. I’d probably fall asleep half way through the yard and the mower would roll off into someones car. Or I could just set up that auto-mower machine the guy in the Discover Channel commercial makes (Have you seen that? He hums the “I love the whole world” song which is my favorite.thing.ever). But when I’ve watched five hours of Mythbusters reruns I’ve already seen because I’m too lazy to find the remote, even an auto-mower machine seems like a lot of work.
I have big plans to go to the gym tonight. I’m feeling better (knock on wood) as far as morning sickness goes, and I’d like to be able to wear my non-pregnant pants for a few more weeks. But going to the gym requires a change of clothes AND tying my shoes. It would also involve either a mile walk or fighting for a parking space downtown, and thinking about either of those options makes me want to go lie on my bare mattress for an hour or four. The really sad part is I have an elliptical trainer in my family room. But it’s folded up, so I can’t use it. What, you think I should unfold it and move it two feet from the wall? Obviously you have never been pregnant.
Whew, all this typing is making me tired. I’m going to go stare at the wall until it’s time to go home.