(Morgi is the non-gender specific fetus name we chose. It means "shark" in Welsh and is our favorite Welsh word. Christy/Danny/Lucy just call it "Sharky" instead, which I think is very cute. When we know the gender, it will become Vector or Velocity.)
The most obvious change is my conversation. I am no longer full of sparkly fun things to say. What do I talk about instead? Throwing up. Maybe because this is how I spend my days:
- throwing up
- trying not to throw up
- thinking of foods that will be the least gross to throw up
- not leaving the house so that I don't have to throw up in public
- cleaning my toilet so it is more pleasant to throw up in
Man, now I'm blogging about throwing up. WHAT HAS BECOME OF ME? Christy made me feel better when she told me that when she was pregnant she always felt the need to describe her throwing up experience to Danny. I'm glad it's not just me.
Now, some promises about Pregnant Becca Blogging:
- I will never refer to myself as "preggers" or "prego"
- I won't describe my vomit
- I will be able to talk about things other than babies
- I will, however, feel free to talk about being pregnant because I will want to remember it later
- I will not overly complain, even if I do in real life, because I am grateful and happy to suffer through this
- I will not post weekly baby updates as they come to me in my email, although I might tell you what fruit or vegetable Morgi looks like occasionally, because they pick such wacky comparisons
- I will post minimal "baby bump" pictures, and then only as my mother demands them.
- I will never go into graphic detail about unmentionable body parts or procedures (because to me they ARE unmentionable on a blog)
- If I'm going to talk about something that might be weird or gross, I will give full warning
- But that probably won't ever happen so don't worry.
I do have to say this at least once but I may repeat it several times: Kyle's price is above rubies. I mean, he's not a woman, and I don't mean this because of his virtue, although he is very virtuous I'm sure. This got too complicated. Let's start over. Kyle is amazing. He is the perfect man for me to have married and I'm extremely grateful that I did. He has been taking care of me wonderfully. Not only does he do the dishes, laundry, cooking, and grocery shopping, but he is also sympathetic and understanding of my pain/sickness/discomfort and does all he can to ease it. He doesn't think I'm a wuss at all, and he constantly reminds me of why this is all happening in the first place. He is great. Okay now I'm done.