What to Expect When You’re Newly Knocked Up…

For me, the symptoms set in pretty much right away.  Some were evident even prior to the first positive test result…

positive

Game on. You’re motherfucked.

 

The mood swings that were akin to emotional whiplash really threw my poor husband for a loop.  Oftentimes they would come on so fast and be so exhausting that I would give up halfway through and ask him to forget what I was saying.  I’d find a bottle of Mountain Dew in the refrigerator and then ugly-cry about how he knows I “don’t drink that shit.”  I’d go off on a ten minute diatribe about how “selfish he was and how thirsty I was and how I always thought about him when I did the grocery shopping and…can we stop fighting now?  I’m over it.”  J would stand there stunned, not having said a word and unsure of what just happened to his wife and why was she now crawling into his lap like a bitchy housecat and falling asleep.

kitty

Sleep.  I couldn’t get enough of it.  I’m normally the sort of person who wills themselves awake so as not to miss anything of importance on television, including info-mercials.  That has resulted in my purchase of several failed workout programs and a Ninja blender (which is amazing).  However in the first trimester, I wanted to sleep all the time, anywhere, like a grumpy narcoleptic (or, ironically, like a baby).

Then…the boobs.  Owwwwwuuuch, the boobs.  For weeks at a time it felt like they were filled with gravel, and everything from a nudge to a stern glance could get them fun bags aching.  Pretty soon I noticed another drastic change, this time right in the center of my chest.  Now ordinarily, my dermatologist would advise me to be very wary of any drastic changes in color to the spots on my body, however in pregnancy you can fully expect your nips to change color faster than a mood ring.  It’s normal. Towards the end, they’ll be such a deep shade of mahogany that you’ll have to resist the urge to Pledge them.

 imagesCASIB7BU

Then…your nose.  Your nose is going to go from an attractively pert place to perch your reading glasses and smell lovely scents with-to a freakishly bionic organ that picks up horrific inhalants from seemingly miles away (my coonhound and I had plenty in common here).  For me, what became overwhelming was the smells of other people.  I went to see a play shortly after my first positive test result and couldn’t focus on the action onstage when the man next to me obviously had fish and chips fried in old oil for lunch.  The lady in front of me didn’t wash her hair that morning (I could tell) and someone behind me decided to assault me with some Axe body spray.  All those scents mixing ultimately led to…

…vomiting.  And ALOT of it.  It got to the point where I was behaving like a frat boy, puking and rallying all day long.  I began to get so used to up-chucking on the regular that I started to eat based on what wouldn’t taste as bad coming back up.  I ended up eating lots of bananas and strawberry yogurt.  For what it’s worth, stay the fuck away from baby carrots.  Those things are like nature’ little razorblades. The vomiting was how I revealed to my employees that my uterus had taken on a boarder. I was in the middle of a meeting when I leaned in behind my desk and prolapsed my stomach contents into my rubbish bin. I barely gave it a thought, but their horrified expressions told me I had to say something. I briefly thought about blaming salmonella, but I do not eat meat or handle reptiles.

“I’m not sick,” I promised. “I’m just pregnant.”

Ordinarily a Saturday afternoon confined to my couch due to a headache meant that I had a pretty awesome Friday night. First trimester felt like one ginormous hangover without the fun prior. I’ll never forget one afternoon in particular; I had decided to queue up a series on Netflix and have a marathon. I thought I’d give ‘Raising Hope’ a try, but the combination of headache and mood swing resulted in me getting really fucking agitated that someone as strange looking as Martha Plimpton was getting work in Hollywood and I was not yet famous. Completely irrational, but I did have somewhat of a point.

plimpton

Tune in next time, when I cover cravings; why I love maternity jeans forever (foreva-eva); more mood swings and birthing classes.

What was your strangest (or strongest) symptom of pregnancy?

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