Separate the People

So! That’s out, and I feel sort of panicky and superstitious about it, like I have just jinxed myself. And … well, that’s sort of stupid, because it’s not like by SAYING anything I can MAKE IT HAPPEN. If that were true, I would have won the damn Mega Millions, and I’d be writing this from my hut in Fiji while my team of nannies frolics with Sam on the beach.

Meanwhile, I’m almost ten weeks — due August 15, specifically — and what’s crazy is that it does not add up with my own calculations AT ALL, but I’m guessing that’s why the whole thing was a bit of a surprise anyway. What is also crazy is that I am not really all that nauseated. I have moments, certainly, where the idea of certain foods is so repulsive that I’ll do anything to avoid looking at them, much less eating them, but — oh, I can barely type this aloud — I have not thrown up. Not once. Longtime readers will remember that while pregnant with Sam, I threw up no fewer than ten times A DAY.

I’m craving things instead of merely avoiding them. I’m eating things like CHICKEN. I handle raw meat! I cook! I eat, uh, things other than chicken nuggets. It’s like someone else’s pregnancy, seriously.

But make no mistake, I’m pregnant. I feel like someone has taken a sander to my boobs, and I am so tired. So, so tired. And yet, so unable to sleep. And peeing every fifteen seconds. And if someone shares the WRONG RECIPE in Google Reader, I not only feel like barfing in that moment, but I consider whether the friendship was ever worth anything in the first place, because how could they do this to me? Do they hate me? Is that recipe for some sort of grok-inspired food PERSONAL? (Am I using grok correctly here? What IS that, and why is my entire Google contact list asking themselves “What would grok eat?” Is grok some kind of MEAN DIET ALIEN?)

It’s a weird thing, feeling like your body is going to do one thing, and have it do something completely different. It makes me second-guess my entire first pregnancy. Was the sickness all in my head? Was I focusing on it too much? Was it … my fault? I was working from home, with zero social interaction, where as now I’m running around like a maniac, meeting with friends, taking a toddler here and there, sitting down for maaaaybe five minutes in an entire day. Was I just not … busy enough?

I know all these things are irrational and wrong — certainly if my friend or my sister were as sick as I was, and then the next time, just … wasn’t, I wouldn’t assume such ridiculous things. I’m not sure why we’re so hard on ourselves for something that really has nothing to do with much other than, well, that’s just the way it is. Maybe my body’s used to it. Maybe it’s a boy. Maybe it’s just dumb-ass luck.

(By the way, not one person has suggested I’m having a girl. NOT ONE. Well, except for me, because I can only picture myself with a girl, obviously, because that’s what I have. And we all know that if I have another girl, it will be exactly like Sam, yes? Because all two kids are precisely alike! That’s how it works!)

(And wait, okay, there is one. I see you, Nic!)

And finally, the hopefully big sister to-be. Please tell me that you, too, are dead from the cute, not to mention the talent of the photographer. (Boston people should really call her, because she’s amazing. And also my friend.)

(Click to embiggen.)

Happy Wednesday!

*Mates of State

51 comments January 11th, 2011