Incubating
5:31 p.m. - 2005-02-26
I've been trying to come up with something to put here that doesn't pertain to me being pregnant, but it's too difficult. Try as I might, I can't seem to think about anything else right now, but I'm hoping that the obsession dies down a little. (Not the baby obsession, per se, but the "Oh my god, is that a gas pain or a cramp? Am I bleeding? Better go to the bathroom and check!" insanity.)
Thankfully, I haven't been sick (yet), or even nauseous, but it seems like my sense of smell has been amped up. I dabbed on a little essential oil four hours ago and it threatened to give me a migraine. I still smell it now, though not as strongly, and I didn't even put on that much. Ashtrays are perhaps the worst offender--last night I had to move Alan's ashtray completely out of the room because it was grossing me out. I haven't completely stopped smoking yet (please don't yell at me!), but have managed to cut WAY back to five smokes or less a day. I have two left in what is definitely my last pack (I've had it for a few days), and when those are gone, I'm done. Seriously.
I don't have the intention to turn this into a pregnancy journal, but bear with me for a while, okay? It's a new and unexplored territory right now, and I'm doing my best to embrace the fact that I'm harboring an alien in my belly.
I've been way too lazy today, and Alan's probably going to bitch about the dishes in the sink when he gets home. It would be in his best interest not to, especially since I had to get dressed, go to town and pick out birthday gifts for our five year old neice's birthday party, then attend said party and deal with upwards of thirty people packed into two rooms of a tiny trailer (all by my lonesome) because it was important to him that I show. Oh, hell no, he'd better not complain about a few dirty pots and pans.
Well, at least we know that the bitchiness is still intact and thriving. Since I can't drink, smoke or do drugs for the next forever, I forsee a lot of griping in my future.