food commercials are evil

I wonder if advertisers focus group test pregnant women? Sure seems like they do because all of the restaurant, fast food, chip, pizza (I can go on and on) commercials call to me.

Anything food-related thing I see on TV these days, I WANT. I was watching an episode of Friends and they were eating cheese pizza. All I wanted for the next two hours was a cheese pizza.

But by far, the worst are those damn KFC commercials. Crispy fried chicken with mashed potatoes and gravy?? Sign me up!! I've seen that stupid commercial five times in the past week. One night I couldn't take it and asked Brian if I could have some KFC. He told me no cause he knows it's full of grease and fat. Good thing he's around. So far, I've resisted. No KFC yet. But those popcorn chicken bits are calling my name...

sick husband vs. pregnant wife

So, Brian was sick last week which is rarity for him. He came home early from work on Thursday, stayed home from work on Friday, and was sick through the weekend. Under normal circumstances, this would be a breeze. But I'm pregnant and tired and I should be the one being pampered. Let the battle begin.

Round 1: Brian calls me from the road on Thursday and asks me to put a glass of orange juice and bottle water upstairs for him cause he's sick and needs to rest. Okay, I'll give him a break. OJ and water. Check. B takes Round 1.

Round 2: Brian comes home and looks pretty sad. I give him a hug and ask him if he's okay. "I'm sick," he says. He stands in the kitchen with me, asks about his drinks and then wants me to make him a cheese sandwich. Really? Alright, I'll give you that one too. B takes Round 2.

Round 3: The next day, Brian stays home from work. He seems better. He answers a few emails on the computer and organizes our bills in between naps. But at one point in the day we're both standing in our closet upstairs. I'm putting the T-shirts away on the shelves and notice that a few formerly nicely folded shirts are now thrown on the shelves haphazardly because Brian's to lazy to put them back the way he found them. So I say to him, "Can you please put the shirts back nicely?"

He tells me to leave him alone and he's reasoning is, "I'm sick!"

That's it. My response is, "I'm pregnant!"

"You win." He says.

The rest of the weekend was quite boring. Brian slept A LOT. He was cranky and I was bored. Thank goodness he's over it now. But really, what is it with men and being sick? Try being pregnant and then we'll see who's tougher. ;)

10 weeks

First one is the old 7 week pic. Second one is 10 weeks.

I think I just look like I had one too many katsu plates.

i need a hug!

The one pregnancy symptom I have noticed is what The Expectant Father calls "a heightened closeness to you." Brian calls it "clinginess." Usually, I'm not a big cuddler. But since our Vancouver trip the other weekend (that's when I first realized it), I have been much more attached to Brian's hip than normal. He'll be in the dining room working and I'll have to go over and "visit" him every half hour or so. I just go over and give him a hug, and Brian will shake his head a little and mumble under his breath, "Clinginess."

Secretly though, he likes it. He's a hugger and everyone knows it.

the blame game

Tired? It's because I'm pregnant. Hungry? It's because I'm pregnant. Bitchy? It's because I'm pregnant! I have recently taken to blaming everything on the pregnancy. Whether every mood swing, yawn or rumbling in my tummy really has anything to do with the pregnancy doesn't matter. I'm blaming the baby. I figure it's only fair...if I have to deal with all these changes to my hormones, body and brain, why not take advantage of it a little?

The other week Brian and I got into an argument and it escalated when it didn't need to. I started crying and he was trying to get me to stop and I told him, "I can't!! I'm pregnant!" Now, would I have cried had I not been pregnant? Maybe. But it sure felt like it was the baby's fault. And it worked. That was the end of the fight and I felt vindicated. :)

I do realize I need to be careful though. Brian's a nice guy but he has limits too. I have to be able to milk this throughout the entire 10 months and I still have about 7 1/2 to go. He's fully aware of my "milking it" plan though. (The great thing about us is we tell each other pretty much everything) So while he may hate it, we've come to agree that as long as I'm somewhat reasonable in my outbursts or requests, he'll just have to deal.

It just doesn't taste the same

No morning sickness yet (knock on wood!) but I have noticed that foods just don't taste the same to me anymore. I wouldn't exactly call them aversions -- I can still pretty much eat anything -- but what seems appetizing to me changes day-to-day. One day last week, the only thing that sounded good to me for dinner was soup. So Brian, the loving hubby that he is, went to the store on his way home from work and bought me some. Well, not some. More like 20 cans of soup. Leave it to Brian to take it to the extreme.

Last week was also my salt-kick week. I first noticed it as I was eating the low-salt "healthy choice" soup Brian got. These are the soups we usually buy, but for some reason they were just too darn bland. Low-salt somehow now means "tastes like crap." I found myself with the salt shaker in hand trying to make the soup more tasty. It didn't work. So, with 18 cans still left in the pantry, that was the end of my soup craving.

Salt and I were best friends last week and ume and rice became my favorite snack. Unfortunately, I don't think pickled plum mixed with carbs is doing the baby much good from a nutrition standpoint. But it didn't make me stop wanting salt. Then Brian came home one day with a jar of pickles. He does pay attention! Boy, do I love those pickles. What a sad, pregnant woman cliche I've become. But those pickles are GOOD.

This week, I seem to be on the downward slope of my sodium overload. (Maybe a weekend of Hon's did the trick?) That's the good news. The bad news is that I can't seem to figure out what I want. Nothing is really appetizing to me but nothing is terribly unappetizing either. After I eat something, I'm not satisfied. I know I want something else, but I can't pinpoint what it is that will make me happy. It's quite annoying.

Oh well. At least I'm not throwing up everything I put down...

7 weeks

Let the pregnant belly pics begin...

Telling the rents

Brian and I agreed that we'd tell our parents after we saw the doctor. No time like the present. After my appointment, I called my parents. My dad answered the phone and I asked him to get mom on too. I'm sure they suspect something at this point because when do I ever want to talk to both of them at the same time? Brian and I have my cell phone on speaker so it's the full family convo. My mom gets on the phone and we break the good news!

Mom's excited and said she "had a feeling." Something about a dream she had...this is so my mom. :) Dad is also excited, but in my dad's way. Says little, but I know he's happy about being a grandpa. Right, daddy?

Since Brian's mom was at work on Friday, we don't get a chance to catch them together until Saturday morning. They made the 4-way conversation easy by answering his dad's cell phone and immediately putting it on speaker. Brian announces that "We're pregnant!" Brian's mom says, "What?" He says it again. "What?" his mom says again. Either Brian mumbles more than I thought or speaker phones on both ends may not have been the best idea.

He says it yet again, almost shouting it this time, and they finally get it! Both are very excited, especially Brian's mom. No surprise there!

We make sure to tell both sets of parents that they can't tell anyone yet. Not even extended family. We need to get through the first trimester before shouting it from rooftops -- even though sometimes I feel like I want to!

My mom was first to slip up (that I know of). I talked to her yesterday and apparently she couldn't help but tell my Aunty Sandy. Geez, mom!! Let's just hope the coconut wireless isn't in full effect...

and the verdict is...

...pregnant! Went to our first doctor's appointment on Fri., Jan. 30 and it's official. The little kidney bean-looking fetus is actually there. Brian came with me to the doc and was the dutiful, patient husband. He even asked a couple questions! Good job, honey. :)

The physician's assistant did the run down of pregnancy do's and don'ts (do workout, don't eat too much fish with mercury, etc. etc.). She seems like she hates her job and can't stand answering first time pregnant women questions all day long. I asked about traveling, which is fine. But all her answers were very curt and cold. Needless to say, we did not like her and I'm glad she's not my doctor. I actually hope I never have to deal with her again.

After the questions, filling out forms and a general pap, it was off to the ultrasound room. It's weird being next to that machine. I've only seen it on TV and to know that it will be used on me and I get to SEE something growing inside me is quite surreal. My doc comes in and I love this lady. She is so sweet and understanding. She says she can sometimes do the ultrasound over the belly and thinks that will work for me. I'm glad about this. The less invasive, the better.

She puts the clear jelly stuff (wth is this for anyway?) on my belly, rubs the thingy (do you like my medical terms?) over my uterus, and voila! My insides are now up on the monitor.

It all looks black, grey and kinda fuzzy. But thanks to my pregnancy books, I can decipher the colorless mess somewhat. I know that the dark black blob is my uterus. There's a small part inside the black blob that's white. Yup! There's the fetus! She points at it and then says, "And there's the heartbeat." Um....what??!

Within the whitish bean is a small pulsating slit. It's pulsating. Crazy. "What?" Brian says aloud. LOL. He's so funny. But that was my thought exactly.

She measures the bean and estimates that I'm actually about 7 weeks pregnant, not 8 like I had thought. Here's a couple pictures of the little miracle!