Friday, June 24, 2011

how is babby formed

Yep! Still pregnant.

I'm not really into it (yet, at least.) It is freaking me out, I'm bloated, I'm queasy - it's like I have a gastrointestinal parasite that also makes my boobs hurt. My mother will not stop calling and every time she does I feel sucked down into the femininity void where you are expected to use phrases like "bless your heart" and "precious little angel," which I can ordinarily only tolerate when they're used as veiled insults in the Southern fashion. Reading the Internet is no better. I am very glad I spent very little time TTC with my DH before I got a BFP so that I never need to see/use those twee acronyms ever, ever again.

Twee. That's the problem. Everything about pregnancy is so charmingly self-consciously childlike, feminine and adorable that it makes me want to find one of those Hallmarks that sell Precious Moments figurines and burn it to the ground. But I digress.

The main reason I am ambivalent and tense about this pregnancy is that I have had a few symptoms that could indicate I may not hang on to it for long. I am either on my way to miscarriage or one of those weird women you see on "I Didn't Know I Was Pregnant!" who have their periods in a normal-ish way and then, whoops! Baby! How the hell did that happen? The doctors (to whom I've run in wild panic twice so far - I can't go my whole first trimester like this!) seem to think I'm okay, pending my next ultrasound in two weeks. We shall see. In any case I am living in fear (because the prospect of miscarrying a wanted child, no matter how early, I am learning, is very disturbing) and trying really, really hard not to get my hopes up. Or get attached, at all. Which is why the precious baby huggy lumpkins shit that my mom wants to foist on me makes me want to barf. Then again, a lot of things make me want to barf right now, including car rides, my coworker's deodorant and basil pesto.

(This has not stopped me for thinking up names. In keeping with the Y-abuse that must apparently take place when you name a girl (Madysyn? Really?), I'm thinking Ysabel Syzygy Myrycle, Ys for short, and my husband insists on Link Batman Optimus Prime for a boy.) 

But yeah, more people know than probably should, thanks to my husband's big mouth, and if I can't pull this off I'm going to have to deal with some of the most awkwardly expressed condolences ever.

You may be picking up that I'm terrible at grief. So terrible that I need to plan for it ahead of time even when things could very well be perfectly fine. Wow, this entry got depressing.

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