i threw up at my desk this morning. usually i get some sort of warning - some something that says, leave what you're doing and head east towards the bathroom immediately. nope. not today. and so i puked in my hand, on my sweatshirt and in the trashcan before i made it to the potty. in light of that, there is nothing more convincing of the fact that you're actually sick than tossing cookies in your cube - the boss doesn't argue when you say "i need to go home."
except i didn't go to my home. i'm at my mom's home. if i go to my home, i'm obligated to let the dogs out of their houses and take them outside. i guess i'm not really obligated, i mean, they're dogs, right? but kingsley is the master of puppy dog eyes (especially since he's a puppy dog) and i can't be in the same room with him while he's penned up, it just makes me feel so guilty. i'm a sucker, i know. i'm okay with it. but anyway. this being sick thing sucks.
and from what i hear, it may not go away anytime soon. i haven't said anything about it thus far, i'm kind of nervous and stressed and anxious, truth be told, to say too much or to get too excited about it, but if you look to the right you'll see that (once again) we're pregnant.
today is 7 weeks and 5 days. and tomorrow is the first ob/gyn appointment and i gotta say, i'm this close -><- to freaking out. it's really hard for me not to compare one to another and we all remember what happened last time. i can't go through that again. i don't want to put my family and my friends through that again. but, as several people have told me, there's no reason to think that things will end badly - i'm as normal as can be up to this point. in fact, my doctor said to me that there's no reason i can't have healthy and happy babies. and i heard her say that, i can hear her saying that (it's burned in my brain) but i sort of feel like i just have to get through the next few weeks and i'll feel better about this, you know? then i won't be so scared and it'll feel okay to be excited. until then, i'm sort of holding my breath, trying to take things one day at a time.
it's harder than it sounds.
i have some mixed emotions right now and the bee, well, i don't think he knows what to think. we have happy days and days filled with worry and i guess that's to be expected. we try to joke that "the bean" likes mexican food and doesn't really care for frosted mini wheats but it always feels a little weird. last night when i told him that by the time this is over i'll have 50 percent more blood in my body than the average bear and he just found that fascinating (i think it's because he's a guy and guys appreciate gory things like that) but other times i feel like i'm force feeding him information with a crap-flavored spoon.
we've both decided that it is a second chance - to do all the things that we didn't do last time, to appreciate all the things that we didn't get to appreciate last time and to not take each other for granted as we have in the past. and we both subscribe to that program... sometimes. it's another thing that's easier said than done. but we're going to persevere.
and so that is that. we're holding off on telling some people; others already know. i told my dad yesterday when he called and i think he was crying when we got off the phone. good or bad, i'm not sure, i didn't have the heart to ask.
this does sort of put a damper on the vegas vacation we have planned for next week. so much for spending three days drunk as a skunk in the neon jungle. nope. now i get to sip virgin drinks and be the dth, which would be the designated taxicab hailer, and put up with everyone else's antics. it's kind of payback for all those times... well, if you were there, then you know. and if you weren't, you can only imagine. i must say that the buffets are far more important now than they ever were before, and bitches, there better be some crab legs.
speaking of buffets: i am eating like a horse. for real. and it's really strange, because i'll be all starving for a particular thing (like this carmel dip that a friend's mom used to make in the fifth grade) and then i'll make it or i'll go buy it and all i can stand is ONE BITE. what's up with that? i'm so happy to have whatever it is that i'm craving in my hand and then i have one bite and then i'm done. it doesn't taste good anymore and i don't want anything to do with it. lucky for me, the bee is usually around when this happens and he's all about free food and/or leftovers, so maybe it's really lucky for him. by this is all over, i'm going to weigh nine tons...
chubby kids, save my seat.