11 weeks (+4 days)

It's hard to believe it's 11 weeks (and four days) today! I'm a bit behind because of the Christmas holiday, as we just returned back home today.

Baby, you were beyond spoiled this Christmas! Aside from receiving a maternity wardrobe that is without a doubt larger than my regular clothes, we received baby books and a beautiful painting by your aunt Megan. Christmas was still great this year but it was hard to concentrate on anything other than the fact that you'll be here next year! We're already planning your first Disney trip, first Santa visit and all of those fun things that make Christmas truly magical.

As for me, I'm feeling pregnant these days. And I'm looking it, too, especially when I wear my non-maternity clothes. (My days of non-maternity bottoms are official OVER. I've had it up to here with my BellaBand and am succumbing to maternity pants this weekend when I get to the mall! The tops are still okay, especially if they were baggy to begin with -- but they sure aren't baggy now!)

Check out the difference:


Right now my biggest symptoms (annoyances!) are headaches, the worst acne ever (ugh, this part is my least favorite), the inability to stop burping for more than five minutes at a time and the fact that nearly every food seems too disgusting to eat.

But it's all worth it, Baby, because right now you are the size of fig and almost fully formed. Your tooth buds are appearing under your gums and you're busy kicking, stretching and moving around (which we saw you do on my 10 week ultrasound -- you're a hyper one already!). All of your vital organs are formed and functioning.

This week, I've had tons of dreams that you're a girl. This is the first time throughout my entire pregnancy that I've thought you were a girl. From the moment I saw the "positive" on the test, I had this gut feeling you were a boy and therefore I've spent many nights up and pondering what types of boy things you'd like, or how to do your boy nursery. I haven't really given a thought to the fact you could be a girl until lately. Your great-great-grandmother (my great-grandmother) is thinking like me and bought a little butterfly dress outfit for you. Your grandma, Edie, is sure you're a girl based on the old wives tale about your heartrate. A good 93% of the people we encounter are sure you're a girl, while only a few are insisting you're a boy. I'm pretty confident you're a girl this week. As for your dad? He says he can't guess, but he just doesn't want to end up being wrong!

10 Weeks

Well, it's been one hell of a week, but here I am...10 weeks! I personally can see a noticeable little 'bloat pouch' in my belly. So far no one in public has said anything to me in regards to my potentially expecting, but I guess it's kind of early for that.

So, I'm 10 weeks today and have a nifty little "bloat pouch" now.

As for weekly fun facts:
- My nausea has subsided, but I have the rollercoaster of emotions.
- Baby, by the end of the week, will be a "fetus" and not an "embryo."
- Baby now has discernible fingers and toes.
- Baby's skeleton is growing and hardening.
- The ears are beginning to take shape and the eyelids are no longer transparent.
- Baby's brain will make an incredible 25,000 new neurons every minute this week.
- Baby weighs only 4 grams and measures 1½ inches, about the size of a mondo Brazil nut.



- Vital organs — including his kidneys, intestines, brain, and liver (now making red blood cells in place of the disappearing yolk sac) — are in place and starting to function.
- Baby's limbs can bend now.

Pizza Face.

Growing up, I always had acne. My mom would always yell at me when I called it "acne." Acne, she said, were the craters that my father had on his face as a teenager. I just had pimples. Whatever you wanted to call them, they were the bane of my teenage existence. For years, my forehead would be home to those pesky little flesh-colored bumps. For years, I'd essentially experiment every facial wash or promising acne cleanser on the planet. Thankfully, my skin went easy on me during college. Aside from time-of-the-month breakouts, I didn't really have to worry anymore about those nuisance-y bumps. Right before my wedding, of course, I started noticing the little bumps coming back. Stress? Maybe. After my wedding, they were present enough to warrant a trip to the dermatologist where he confirmed that I was having "slight adult acne." Of course I was. Why oh why would my skin dare cooperate with me for more than four or five years?

(I should also note that my adorable little fourteen year old sister has inherited The Good Genes from both of our parents. I got mom's unruly Fran Drescher-esque hair, she got dad's silky straight hair. I got dad's also unruly skin, she got mom's flawless complexion. At fourteen, she doesn't even know the meaning of the world "pimple." Life is so unfair!)

Anyway, the dermatologist prescribed me some facial washes and overnight creams that killed my adult acne. Life was smooth sailing. I didn't even feel compelled to wear foundation to work anymore.

...And then I got pregnant.

I was reading an article on a website, one of those "what to expect during pregnancy" sites, and I read that your skin will either be clear and glowing or a teenage disaster site. As luck would have it (or as my luck would have it), my skin went with the teenager route. My forehead is covered in pimples of the teenage variety. Last night while washing my face, a few of them popped and began to bleed. The utter joy of bleeding pimples if something that I literally have not had to deal with since I was sixteen years old. And, to make it worse, I'm almost looking like Rudolph with this big red one nearly on the tip of my nose. Because there's no TMI in my world, I should also admit to the fact that these little bumps have made their big debut on my chest and a couple even on my back (which even in my teenage years has never-at-all happened before!).

I'm essentially a pimple-y mess. I find myself self-consciously comparing my own blotched complexion to my sister's teenage friends when they're over (and guess what? They ALWAYS have less acne than me!). My acne medications and dermatologist prescribed facial washes come with the bold "not for pregnant or nursing women" notices. Which leaves me with all-natural acne washes from the health food store, which are proving to be about as effective as...something that's highly ineffective. I'm not feeling too clever at the moment. Go with it.

So I guess this is part of the Pregnancy Adventure. And, before you say anything complimentary, this is me 'fessing up to airbrushing the above photograph that was taken this afternoon. At least I admitted it!

9 weeks!

Okay, not the best picture this week, but it's friggin' freezing here in South Florida and if I don't stay bundled up, I just might freeze to death! Just saying.

Today I am 9 weeks pregnant and I can't believe it. As neurotic and paranoid as I am, the time really is flying by. A lot of really interesting things are happening to Baby this week, too. Baby has grown an inch since last week and is now the size of a green olive. According to those week-by-week websites, I should be feeling more tired than I've ever felt in my life. CHECK! THAT'S ME! RIGHT HERE! I feel so stupid for even complaining about fatigue at the start of this pregnancy because I definitely didn't know what the word even meant in comparison to the past couple days.

I've got all of the other gassy, bloated, peeing-every-two-minutes symptoms that the books are saying I should have. But enough about me and the gory details of pregnancy.

As for Baby, he/she is beginning to develop his/her sex organs! We won't be able to find out what Baby is for a while, but it's so exciting to think that Baby is officially one or the other! (Just for reference, everyone except for three people so far have guessed boy. Lately I've been feeling like she's a girl, though my gut has always said that he's a boy!) Baby has nipples and hair follicles and his/her pancreas, bile ducts, gallbladder and anus are all in place.

This is what Baby is looking like, right about now:


Crazy, no?!

8 Weeks!

Today I am eight weeks along. I have this nifty little pouch of bloating that makes it so my pants can no longer button. Between that and the itchiness of my belly, I find that I'm starting to do "that pregnancy thing" where I walk around with my hand rubbing my belly.

I've tacked on "trouble getting comfortable" to my list of symptoms and qualms. I'm so completely exhausted at night, especially after work, but I feel like it takes forever before I can lay in a position in which I'm comfortable. My stomach and my breasts are just sore and, ugh, the bloating doesn't lend itself well to getting comfortable.

According to those pregnancy tracking websites, I should start to notice my bra becoming snug. Great! I did order a few new bras (especially sports-bra style bras, which I'm all over when I'm at home) and am just crossing my fingers that they don't get too big. I'm pretty sure it's not even possible for them to get any larger than they already are (trust me), but it almost makes for a fun little science experiment: just how big CAN Lindsay's breasts get?!

As far as Baby goes, he or she is growing webbed fingers and toes, has eyelids that nearly cover his or her eyes and his (or her!) brain is starting to form neural pathways. Baby is also about the size of a kidney bean but I'll leave it at that because food references are not my friend right now.

Also, it's Hanukkah! Baby is the next generation in being spoiled, because he/she is being born into a "half Hanukkah, half Christmas" (as I always said as a kid!) family. My parents have taken to already buying Baby his/her Hanukkah gifts: last night Baby got a set of board books and a plush "what do you see?" book. Baby approved greatly, though apparently not so much when it comes to the food. I downed way, way too many latkes to proudly admit this afternoon -- and Baby promptly sent them back up again.

Heartbeat!

We got to see Baby on the ultrasound screen today and everything looks great! It was such a relief to me as I really let my anxiety run away with me the past couple of days (no, I really do have anxiety disorder and that can be totally fierce sometimes). My husband, my mom and my aunt Melanie all accompanied me into the ultrasound room (yeah, we're those people) and we got to see this fluttery, super adorable little heartbeat that, really, is the greatest thing I've ever seen.

My doctor put me at 7w5d (so I'll resume my weekly posting on Thursday when I hit 8 weeks) and I got a new due date of July 14th (you guys were right -- that date sure does flip-flop around!). We're going to stick with July 14th as Baby's due date. I like the sound of it.

I actually watched the following video an embarrassing amount of times already but I just can't help it! It really is the greatest thing that my eyes have ever seen:


And this afternoon as I sat in the bathroom hunched over the toilet in agony, I couldn't help but hum a couple of songs in my head as I waited for that here-comes-the-puke stomach turn that I've come to know so well: Baby, Baby, Can't You Hear My Heartbeat by the Herman's Hermits and I Can Feel Your Heartbeat by David Cassidy. It just adds such a festive, wonderful happiness to my being sick to my stomach.

(I'm sadly not even remotely being snarky. I think this is the actual definition of 'elated.')

8w2d

It's been a whirlwind couple of weeks full of traveling for the holidays, my little sister's dance convention and -- basically -- a whole lot of feeling sicker than I ever thought possible before.

Tomorrow is my eight week OB appointment and, no lie, I'm pretty nervous. At my six week appointment, we weren't able to see much via ultrasound. Everyone -- my wonderful doctor included -- assured me not to worry and that it was still early. Easier said than done, especially with the millions of pregnancy forums out there and the ubiquitous posts from other moms-to-be insisting their doctors detected a heartbeat at 6 (or even 4-5!) weeks and anyone else should be worried otherwise. I feel so nervous that I'm grinding my teeth, pacing my house and wanting to just crawl into bed for the night even though it's not even nine o'clock yet. I can't remember the last time I've been so nervous about anything.

I know this is all part of pregnancy and that more or less is why I'm here to document it all. The good, the bad, the ugly. No tales of vomiting or incessant worrying will be spared.

My thoughts right now are 50/50: half of me pictures walking out of my doctor's office full of pure joy and happiness from seeing my baby's heartbeat. The other half of me pictures there being nothing there and trying to make myself tough enough to deal with that. After all, it was our first ever time trying to make a baby. Don't people try for months and months? Don't these things take time? Am I being totally delusional and selfish to think everything will be okay on the first go?!

My mind is a complete mess and I know nothing -- not even the kindest words from friends and relatives -- will calm me down until I'm walking out the doors of my doctor's office tomorrow and don't have to wonder "what if" anymore.

6w5d

I'm not even 7 weeks yet and pregnancy is totally kicking my ass. I'm quite convinced that I never knew the meaning of the word "fatigued" before I was pregnant. Here's what else pregnancy has been teaching me lately:

• "THE QUESTIONS." One of my co-workers who knows about my pregnancy said that I should get ready to start answering "the questions." I stared at her with a blank stare until she elaborated: "Do you plan on breastfeeding? Will you go back to work? Do you think it's a boy or a girl?" (et cetera -- these questions never end!) She was totally right. I feel like I need to carry a taperecorder with me so I can just keep pressing 'play' when "the questions" start: "Do you plan on breastfeeding?" (Yes.) "Will you go back to work?" (No.) "Do you think it's a boy or a girl?" (Boy.) "Is your husband excited?" (Obviously.) And so on. And so on. And so on.
• BELLA BAND. I bought my first one today. Well, I got two: one in black, one in white. I tend to wear white undershirts outside of work and black undershirts with my work uniform, so I'll give both colors a go. It'll be a nice alternative from only wearing leggings everywhere.
• LEGGINGS. Continuing off my previous bulletin, I at first thought it'd be fun to ditch jeans for leggings when my pants started having trouble closing. The first day in leggings was great. Then I started to feel like there are only so many ways to dress up leggings so you don't look like a little girl in ballerina tights. Now I'm ready for jeans again.
• CRAVINGS. Ugh, I've seriously been craving eggs. Eggs. How disgusting and random is that? Considering I literally hated eggs pre-pregnancy (you have no idea...I couldn't even look at eggs if other people were eating them), this has been super strange to me. I demanded that my husband make me eggs for dinner last night. I've had eggs for breakfast or for lunch over the past several days. We have literally gone through a carton of eggs in a week whereas normally we end up throwing out all of the eggs that have gone bad in back of the 'fridge. It's frightening. Right now? I could totally go for some eggs. Disturbing.
• MORNING SICKNESS. This is my least favorite part. I'll take the tights and the eggs anyday over waking up to my head rocking back and forth like I'm in the middle of the ocean. Because my grogginess is so bad that I literally think my head is rocking back and forth with it when I wake up. My queasiness is so bad that I either spend my first hour awake in the bathroom or on the couch sobbing that I'm going to die. I never really die, but driving to work with an empty plastic cat litter box in the passenger seat (for puking in, of course) is getting old.
• FORGETFULNESS. I literally can't remember a damn thing. I'm absolutely worthless. At work, this could end up totally becoming a problem...but it's no picnic in everyday life, either. As an example: this morning after shampooing, I put conditioner in my hair and combed it through as per usual. I then turned the shower off and climbed out. I got dressed, got ready to go to Target and went to pull my hair up -- only to find it was filled with conditioner. I didn't rinse it out. I didn't remember to rinse out the conditioner! Like, what the hell? Though today's example is totally the worst, I'm guilty of forgetting some very basic things and I feel like I have the attention span of a teenager.

...But there are also good things. Even though I know it's too early and everyone will roll their eyes and laugh at me, we've started reading bedtime stories to baby. This has become my favorite part of the day, hands down (and not just because it means I finally get to go to sleep!).

I also love knowing that next Christmas, there will be a little baby to buy things for and take to the Christmas tree farm (you know, the Florida version) and sit on Santa's lap and do all sorts of fun things with. It makes me want to fast-forward through this Christmas and just go to the next one (and not just because I want this morning sickness/Pukefest 2010 to be over with).

And, obviously, there's the sheer excitement that manages to outweigh the nausea or fatigue or forgetfulness. It's been an interesting journey already!

Goodbye, Pants.

Today I did something super embarrassing.

I went to work with my pants undone. Not just unbuttoned, but unzipped, too. I wore leggings under my pants out of sheer terror that they'd fall straight off of me. (For the record, it came pretty close a couple of times.)

This crazy bout of bloat seemed to happen overnight. I've been feeling incredibly swollen and puffy the past couple of days, but this morning there was simply no way my pants were buttoning. It's crazy, because the damn things fit the day before. As the day wore on, they fit less and less.

(Is six weeks too early for a BellaBand?! Jesus.)

Spoiled Baby!

Baby is already super spoiled and I'm not even six weeks along yet!

Victoria (from the Adventures In Mommyhood blog and also one of my most favorite friends) sent Baby his/her first ever toys!



Victoria sent Baby a Sophie (she is so cute, seriously!) and Take Along Tunes by Baby Einstein! I've been so excited to get a little Sophie and so what a surprise it was to see one pop up in my mailbox! Thank you so, so, so much, Victoria, from both me and baby!

Then yesterday my husband brought in the mail and I saw we had a package. This one was from my friend, Emma, and her super cute son, Sam (he did the fantastic artwork on the card):



And inside the package? Baby's first book!



Guess How Much I Love You! One of the things I'm most excited about is building Baby's library. I can't think of a better first book to start off Baby's collection!

So thank you, thank you, thank you to Victoria and Emma! We appreciate it more than you have any idea!

Not Quite 6 Weeks yet!

Let's start over.



I had my first doctor's appointment today. Just to show you how spot-on my fantabulously flawless math skills are, I'm actually only 5 1/2 weeks along. Not six like I originally thought. Let's hope this baby has his/her daddy's math skills for the sake of all that is holy.

It wasn't a total bust, though. I got the ample amount of bloodwork out of the way and also got the sheer joy of having my internal exam and internal ultrasound done (I'm wincing as I type that, actually). I do have to come back next week when I'm six weeks along for another ultrasound (you know, like I was supposed to do today before I flubbed the calculations entirely) and my pap smear (wince).



I also got to get an ultrasound picture, which made the whole ordeal worth it. I'm a terrible patient, but walking out with that little picture of my ohsoadorable baby (don't lie, you know it's the cutest thing you've ever seen!) kind of made me feel on top of the world. I couldn't wait to come home, scan it and send it over to my husband. His response? "It has my eyes." Okay, mock me as everyone (inevitably) will, but it's adorable and you know it.

So here I go again, but at 5 1/2 weeks instead of 6. This puts my estimated due date at July 9th instead of the originally planned July 2nd. July 2nd being a lot cooler because it's my husband's birthday, but due dates aren't set in stone.

I do have one request, though: please don't let this baby be Born On The 4th Of July:


(I hate that movie.)

6 Weeks.

It would really figure that on the morning of my very first doctor appointment, I am suffering from the worst bout of morning sickness so far. I haven't vomited yet but, in my opinion, those mornings where you're too queasy to move and too nauseous to vomit are worse than just puking and getting it over with. When I woke up this morning, my husband asked how I was feeling. I said I was hungry, because I was. I woke up to dreams of my ice, cold bowl of honey nut Cheerios. "That's not good," said my husband. "Why?" "Well, we're out of milk," he explains as he finishes off his bowl of cereal. I actually think I did a good job of swallowing my pregnancy rage. I'm sure he'll have a different opinion.

But then he redeemed his Caring Husband Points and made me scrambled eggs and a piece of toast. It was going great until, mid-bite, the nausea came forward. It gurgled around in my stomach and made my head so disgustingly putrid that even two Preggie Pop Drops didn't do a thing. If I even shifted my weight to sit up higher on the couch, oh man, it was done. I hobbled to the bathroom to try to puke but nothing happened except for the most awful pangs of queasiness with each step I took. Then I realized this was the morning of my first doctor's appointment. Friggin' hell.

I did manage to take a shower, though. I stared at my toothbrush there on the counter, knowing I would have to put on some toothpaste and brush my teeth soon. Toothpaste has been my #1 Pregnancy Nemesis so far. I'm kind of ashamed to admit that I would probably have just chewed a stick of gum and called it a day if it wasn't for the fact that I had my first doctor's appointment today. And, really, do I want to go to the doctor not only looking like hell but smelling like hell, too?

Post-shower, I rubbed lavender oil on my temples and picked up my toothbrush in one hand. I could do this. I could do anything. I did it, actually, without vomiting -- but I'm pretty sure I feel even sicker now. I have that whole kicked-in-the-stomach tummy-flu feeling in addition to just feeling like I was struck by a bus. But at least my teeth are shiny and clean and, good god, my doctor better notice. No lie. She better say something like, "wow, your teeth look nice" or else I seriously may break down. Damn it.

Then as I was getting dressed, my jeans decided they weren't buttoning. That's not really funny because they're the same jeans I wore yesterday (don't hate, okay? I'm not a dirty, smelly person like this post is making me out to be -- I swear!). I wore them last night when we ran out for a few minutes and, you know what? They buttoned. Now they're not even coming close and I had to shove myself into my pants and lay on the bed to zip and button them. Add "extreme bloating" to my list of problems today and, of course, wouldn't it figure it's the day of my very first doctor's appointment.

I'm throwing in the towel, here. My doctor can deal with my bloated, nauseous, super pleasant (please note the sarcasm, okay?) self today...sans make-up. Because the last thing I want to do right now is run an eyeliner over my eyelids or try to make anyone believe that I feel anything other than absolutely miserable. It would just totally figure -- my luck! -- that the first day I'm bringing a puke bag in the car with me would be my first doctor's appointment. Aw, man.

Growing a Cuban.

This afternoon, my aunt Fran and cousin Edward came in from Pennsylvania. We're having a memorial service for my grandmother on Sunday. My aunt Fran was the last of the People To Tell Right Away about my pregnancy and I was waiting to tell her in person.

If you've never been around the Schneider half of my family (the maternal half), you probably still have your full hearing. So congratulations on that! If you have, you know the deafening sounds that come from standard Schneider conversations.

Let's just say that it's kind of a coincidence that my aunt's name is also Fran:


And let's also just say that we all must adapt by shrieking over one another. This is what Schneider's do. My best friend calls it "the Schneider shrill." Our everyday conversations? DEAFENING.

Moving on, I was trying to get a word in and thinking of the right way to drop the bomb as Fran talked about the book she was reading about France in World War II and mom kept giving me "hurry up! Now!" glares. I didn't think that the news should be shouted out as Fran ranted and raved about Nazi Germany and Adolf Hitler, but finally I had a second in. One second to get my point out there.

So I shouted: "Hey, Frannie! I'm growing a human!"

There's this perplexed look on her face. And then: "You're growing a Cuban?" Immediately, my mother and I burst into laughter that confuses her even more. "Cuban? WHAT CUBAN?" she asks, as if this was the most legitimate question in the world.

"No, Frannie. HUMAN!" "CUBAN? Who is Cuban?"

Once we explain to her that I said 'human' and not 'Cuban,' we wait for it to click. Eventually it does.

Later on, she inquires if we can go to the Cuban restaurant for lunch. I stifled a bit of a LOL inside my brain.

Puke and other delightful things.

My husband and I have been together since I was 15 and he was 16. After nearly a decade together, we're pretty comfortable with one another. I think this is a good thing, personally, but it's also funny. I say 'funny' because my husband works some pretty crazy hours. Especially lately, our time together has been very scarce (i.e. we only saw one another last night because he came home from work past midnight as I was up urinating for the five hundredth time). Our conversations thus look a lot like this lately: HIM: "How are you feeling?" ME: "I think I've peed five times in the last hour." As my first trimester continues on and on with it's queasy, sickly glory, our conversations have also evolved: "I vomited so much this morning, it was sick." "I didn't vomit today, but I had some wicked diarrhea."

I mean, right, it only makes sense that the few minutes we get to talk lately should be consumed with talk about bodily functions and how many times I went to (and what I did in) the bathroom. And I think that's "funny." But in a "isn't life funny?!" kind of way. I remember when I was 15 and he came over for the first time, I hid the toilet paper in my bathroom because I didn't want him to know that I peed at all (because apparently urination is SOOOO embarrassing!). Now I'm just waiting for him to call so I can tell him how I just vomited my lunch all over my mom's bathroom.


--

Not that anyone really wants to discuss food after my beautiful post about vomit and excrement, but I think I'm keeping this place in business lately with my must-have pregnancy cravings:



I should have known something was up pregnancy-wise when I started craving tacos in the middle of the night. I blamed it on PMS. But, man, those cravings were fierce. I kid you not -- last night, I was literally up from 1-2 in the morning because my desire to consume tacos was so fierce that it kept me up all night. Today, my mom ran me by Lime to pick up my tacos which were delicious and hit the spot -- until my afternoon-sickness kicked in and I promptly vomited them in her bathroom. But, oh man, were they good going down. They didn't feel so good coming up, though.

So...sleepy...

Dear Baby,

So far, I've only known you were on the way for four days. It's funny how knowledge of your arrival kind of exploded our lives into something bigger and better than they were before.

I just want you to know that, ohmygosh, I am tired all of the time. I'm so very much not joking, either. All of the time. I've been going to sleep no later than 9:00 p.m. every evening. Last night was no exception. It's not even noon yet and I've already had two naps (albeit brief -- thanks to those stupid telemarketers calling!). What else is on my agenda today? Napping. Not moving off of the couch, unless it's to move to the bed to get a better nap in. (I guess my calling as a not-so-cool mom begins now, huh?) Whatever the case is, I just can't get enough sleep! You're already wearing me out. I guess this is a sign of things to come!

Your daddy and I absolutely can't wait to meet you. I'm nervous and paranoid and apologize already for the overbearing, over-protective mom that I will inevitably be! More than anything, though, we're excited. It's already been so fun reading about and learning about your growth and development.

Anyway, I have to get going now. It's time for lunch (I'm craving scrambled eggs. I don't even like eggs. In fact, I hate eggs! What are you doing to me, baby?!) and then, inevitably, another nap!

I love you already!

Love,
Your Mom (whoa, that's weird!).

--

5 Weeks:
Biggest Pregnancy Cravings: TACOS!
Food Making My Stomach Turn: Chicken. I can't even look at the packages of chicken breasts in the refrigerator.
What I've Been Listening To Lately:

This Week, I Think You're A... BOY. I just have this gut feeling. For that, sorry for all that Taylor Swift.

Rainy day.

Today I went to Babies-R-Us and parked in one of those "reserved for expectant mothers" spots. I didn't really need to considering it was 11 a.m. on a Monday and therefore nearly every single spot was available. It was just pretty cool and exciting and made my morning.

I had gone to Babies-R-Us to purchase these, per the recommendation from Rhian:



Today I also scheduled my first prenatal doctor's appointment. I'm so nervous yet so anxious (because I am, quite frankly, the most neurotic person on the planet).

--

Yesterday was a pretty epic day, too, but I was too tired to write about it. I went to bed at 8:30 last night and slept until 7. I'm pretty exhausted now, though, and I've already had one nap today (shut up, it was less than an hour!). I was hoping to get in a walk around the block but it...is...still...raining. I swear, it hasn't stopped for a second all day.

Anyway, getting back to the point, yesterday we told my parents and my sister that we were expecting. They all came over for Halloween because I was taking my sister and her friends trick-or-treating. I had gotten a book called Grandparents Handbook and put it into a gift bag for them to open. Dad opened the bag first and stared at the book in the style of Steve Martin in Father Of The Bride 2. He had no idea. "Oh, cool, thanks." It wasn't until my mom started shrieking, "YOU'RE PREGNANT?!?!" that dad caught on! It was a mixture of yelling from mom and my sister and "ANSWER THE QUESTION!" from dad which was all funny. It was even more happy and exciting than I anticipated that moment being.

So that's that! My family knows, I'm still peeing and napping a lot, I'm nauseous all of the time, and I have my first doctor's appointment. It's starting to feel real -- a little bit. But not too much yet.

I'm peeing. A lot.

With every tummy-grumble, cramp and run to the bathroom to pee now, now, NOW, I'm totally reminded that there is a baby growing in there. Whoa. It's seriously mind-blowing. Tomorrow I call to make my first OB/GYN appointment. I feel like she's going to say "JK!" and this will all be a joke. That's how surreal it all totally feels.

Right now, these are the things I'm supposed to be feeling at 5 weeks:
- Fatigue (CHECK!)
- Frequent urination (CHECK! BRB -- have to pee.)
- Breast tenderness - (CHECK!)
- Nausea - (CHECK!)
- Excessive saliva (Okay, this one I haven't noticed yet!)
- Food cravings and aversions - (CHECK! All I want are tacos. And please keep chicken away from me, thankyouverymuch. Vomit.)

This is apparently what my baby looks like right now:


For a little tadpole-like creature, he/she is pretty cute. That, or I could be biased.

According to BabyCenter:
Deep in your uterus your embryo is growing at a furious pace. At this point, he's about the size of a sesame seed, and he looks more like a tiny tadpole than a human. He's now made up of three layers — the ectoderm, the mesoderm, and the endoderm — which will later form all of his organs and tissues.

The neural tube — from which your baby's brain, spinal cord, nerves, and backbone will sprout — is starting to develop in the top layer, called the ectoderm. This layer will also give rise to his skin, hair, nails, mammary and sweat glands, and tooth enamel.

His heart and circulatory system begin to form in the middle layer, or mesoderm. (This week, in fact, his tiny heart begins to divide into chambers and beat and pump blood.) The mesoderm will also form your baby's muscles, cartilage, bone, and subcutaneous (under skin) tissue.

The third layer, or endoderm, will house his lungs, intestines, and rudimentary urinary system, as well as his thyroid, liver, and pancreas. In the meantime, the primitive placenta and umbilical cord, which deliver nourishment and oxygen to your baby, are already on the job.

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That's pretty cool, no?!

Anyway, it's time to get ready for Halloween. The baby knows there's a huge basket of chocolate just waiting for us. You know, to hand out to the trick-or-treaters, of course.

Also, I just want to put this out there: I have this gut-feeling that the baby is a BOY. I used to only want a girl or nothing at all but right before I discovered that I actually was pregnant, I decided either would be fun and I actually have zero preference. I'm pretty excited about either. I just have this gut feeling, though, that it's a BOY. I just wanted to document that. :)

New Beginnings...

Yesterday started off like a normal Saturday. Somewhat. I woke up at six o'clock in the morning with a bit of a stomach ache and a little bit of a queasy feeling. After a couple of runs to the bathroom, I sat myself down on the couch and watched Hard Candy off of our DVR. At 7:45, my husband was also awake and the two of us went to Starbucks to meet up with my dad. This is our normal Saturday routine, despite the fact that I've sworn off caffeine lately (and, I guess, thank god for that). My husband got called into work yesterday. A Saturday. I got extremely frustrated as he left for work at around 8:30, and then mostly just got really nauseous. I turned on the shower to take a shower and saw that I had one pregnancy test left. You're crazy, I told myself. Don't you feel those cramps? My period was supposed to arrive on the 25th. It never did, but the cramping was there -- albeit milder than normal, but there. I thought maybe it was just taking it's time. I'd been under a lot of stress recently when one of our cats had to have surgery. These things happen, right? It doesn't mean you're PREGNANT.

I took that one pregnancy test, had one foot in the shower and yet jumped back out because something told me just to go look at it. I looked at it. It was POSITIVE. I kind of froze in my tracks there for a minute. And then I threw on clothes and sped off to the grocery store to buy three more boxes of tests. Yes, three. And I took every last one of them. They were all positive.

As I tried to process this information, I realized that it kind of made sense. I've been irritable and exhausted the past couple of days. By two o'clock in the afternoon, I'm so tired that my eyes are literally closing while I'm at work. I had made myself a sandwich on Challah bread (my favorite) and was convinced the bread was bad because it tasted so awful and made me nauseous. I've had these slight, rumbling cramps in my abdomen that I couldn't place. My "period" came on the 27th for two seconds and then was never seen again (implantation bleeding, I suppose it was!).

So, wow. I'm going to be a MOM.

My husband and I are pretty secretive with who we're telling now but my main criteria was this: I'm going to tell anyone who would be in my support group if something were to go wrong. (But I still wanted to start this blog from day one instead of trying to recount the emotions at a later date.) I told my best friend by way of a Twilight Halloween card. Joke cards are the norm for us, save for the fact I signed this one, "PS - I'm totally pregnant." She took me out to Lime for tacos -- which have already been my absolute #1 pregnancy craving so far. I think I've eaten tacos every single day (which, come on, self, totally a warning sign!) and crave them as if I'd die without their goodness in my mouth. I told my husband by buying a giftbox and filling it it with my 5,000 pregnancy tests. His reaction? "What's this? Wait? What? Are you serious? Oh my gosh, are you serious? Is this for real? (insert lots of hugging) Oh, god, we have to save money." Lastly, we told my cousin, Michael, that he was going to be an uncle. He literally jumped up and down with excitement.

According to the almighty internet, I am five weeks along. My baby is the size of a sesame seed and he or she is expected to arrive on July 2nd, 2011 -- which is also my husband's birthday. Greatest birthday present ever? Yeah, I'm pretty awesome like that. ;)