About the size of a fig

I have started my second trimester. That means that that there's a fetus inside me that is about the size of a large fig. It has a face and all its basic parts, and while it is moving, I can't yet feel it.

My reasons for not posting an article in Humanist Mom during my first trimester - not even to announce that I was pregnant - can be summarized as I felt really crappy.

To be sure, I'm thrilled about having a baby. After all, that was the plan. Friends have already begun knitting and crocheting booties and blankies that I too happily accept. And while I wanted to adopt, I'll admit that since we're making one the old fashioned way, I'm contemplating the ways in which my future son or daughter will look like me, my husband, and our relatives. That's sort of neat.

I'm very glad that I planned this pregnancy. I'm relieved that I spent months getting in good physical shape and building a relationship with a counselor because within 2 weeks of finding out I was pregnant, I got sicker than I've ever been and all that regular exercising and healthy eating went right out the window. First came nausea. Not just in the morning (morning sickness is a misnomer) but from when I woke up to when I fell asleep at night. I had nightmares right away which were obvious allegories for being infected by a nasty parasite and then having my body held hostage by a ruthless gunman. After two weeks of nausea I started wishing I could throw up. And then I did start throwing up. It was like having the flu, but it just went on day after day. I started calling off work (and when you're an independant contractor that means losing money.) At one point I managed to wear the same pajamas for 7 days in a row. I mostly slept and watched re-runs of "Coupling" and "CSI" or just whatever was on the boob tube.

Then came a day where I could keep nothing down at all. I threw up 7 times by 2pm, so I called my doctor and got an appointment for that afternoon. Their solution: stop taking the prenatal vitamins (the iron supplement was probably making things worse) and take an anti-nausea medication - promethazine - as needed. I needed it every 4-6 hours for 3 days, and then started taking it less and less, and finally not at all.

In addition to the physical stress, I found out in February that one of my jobs - in fact my main source of income - will end in mid-June. Normally this wouldn't be stressful at all, but as we all know, the economy is in the shitter, and I've noticed a seriously lack of jobs on all the normal employment boards I check. This provides a wonderful excuse, er, I mean reason to put myself full force into my fine art career. But that means investing some serious time and money without much of a return, possibly for years. Not a good thing to be doing with a baby. But if not now, when? Gotta start somewhere and some time. If we're going to be struggling financially, might as well be doing something worthwhile at the same time.

I had thought that having a blog during this pregnancy experience would be helpful, but these first three months I have felt no desire to share these crappy experiences and career anxieties with anyone other than friends and family. Hopefully the worst (other than the obviously painful final hours called labor) has passed.

Since feeling much healthier, I've gone back to my regular pilates and yoga routines and started eating vegetables again. Much of my worries about pregnancy has been alleviated by getting to hear the heartbeat - that was awesome! Especially seeing my husband's face get all mushy at the sound.

Also, I have a lead on a really great summer job. If I get it, I'll post details later.

Things are looking up. They always do eventually.