I couldn't have said it better...

I was going to blog about how these first few months of pregnancy feel, but Dooce summed it up so well, that I'm just going to let you click over there and read, then know that I feel like that, exactly, everything she wrote about morning sickness. Actually, I will quote her with the caveat that many of my readers may not appreciate some of what she blogs about:

"That horrible feeling I had after the fifth serving of pasta, the one where the noodles feel like they're sitting at the top of my throat, where my pants are so tight that I can't maneuver into a comfortable position, where I feel like I might hurl if I move my head too quickly, that is what I feel like ALL THE TIME. It never goes away, even if I haven't had anything to eat in several hours. And my brain and gut are telling me that I'll feel better if I just eat something, which is a lie. It's after I eat that I feel the worst. Food tastes phenomenal, yes, but during the two hours after a meal I have to assume the fetal position and remain perfectly still. This is not convenient when life has to be lived, when dogs need to be fed and walked or certain daughters need baths and bedtime stories. Leta has grown used to the grimace on my face during her bedtime routine and more than once has voiced her opinion that "that baby isn't being very nice." Really? In that case your feelings won't be hurt when I tell you that this is nothing! When you were in my womb I used to daydream about how much less painful it would be to shove a fishing hook through my upper lip.

All of this is to say that no, I do not like being pregnant. I am thankful that I am pregnant, so grateful and hopeful about the baby, thrilled about what it means for our family, but I do not enjoy what this does to my body. I cannot relate to women who say that they love this, that they wish they could be pregnant for years, that they have never felt more like a woman. I don't know exactly why, but there are things about this that make me feel totally disenfranchised. I have no control over my body or appetite, and I cannot do anything to improve the way I feel."

So, there you go. Kyle and I are in Phoenix for the week while Kevin flies over to London to decide if we want to move there for two years. The holiday was rough, touch and go, but we made it to Phoenix and I've only puked a couple of times. My midwives graciously lowered my dosage of progesterone and that has seemed to help with some of the nastiness I was experiencing. Kyle is at his Grandad's tonight for a family dinner that I so desperately wanted to go to, however, I am toast after about 4 o'clock everyday.

Last night, our first night without Kevin, I put Kyle to bed and told him he could fall asleep on Kevin's side of the bed if he wanted. Well, not only did he do that, he procured a family of teddy bears from my closet and tucked them all in on my side of the bed. It was adorable.

Today, I have felt remarkably good, so Kyle and I left the house in search of a mall play area. As we cruised through a clothing store, Kyle insisted that his baby needed some slippers, just like him. I told him his slippers were too big, but we could check the baby section. Turns out he wanted a whole outfit for the new baby: shirt, pants, hat, and slippers. He picked out pink, so hopefully we're having a girl, lol. Otherwise, one of our pregnant friends will be getting a cute little ensemble for their baby girl later this year!

And now, I must eat. I'll write again soon.