We are three months along and Chris, the wee one and I are doing fine. This is really saying something, because I know that I have tested Chris’s devotion and patience relentlessly. So far he has soldiered through the hormonal roller coaster that has included:
- Me sobbing like a four year old because there were no showers while we were camping. (Look. I don't know why I expected this, but I did. So just be quiet. Or I will start crying all over again.)
- Me sobbing because I was just really uncomfortable. And my skin was uncomfortable. And I just felt “icky”.
- Sobbing for sobbing’s sake.
- A temper tantrum because… well, I don’t know why the &*$# I was angry, but it was probably his fault, dammit.
- Silence. Because. I don’t feel like talking. To anyone.
Yes, I’ve been a real piece of work, lately. Really, a delight to be around. Anyway, the point is that we are pregnant and our lives are filled with happiness and joy. Er… when does that start happening? Can I get an express shipment of that, please?
You know, everyone calls this a real “miracle”. You know what the true miracle is? That women have still partners by the time the baby makes its appearance. Chris is a real good man…
My parents were always big on the "What's Happening to my Body?" books when we were growing up. Inspired by them, this is what I would look like if I were a cartoon right now:
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