I woke up this morning at 6:30 a.m. with cravings. For Chinese food. Specifically, sweet and sour chicken.
This is especially interesting for several reasons:
1. I went to bed at about 1 a.m. I got home from work at 11:30 p.m. to find that my husband was not at home. He was not answering his cell phone. Given that he is usually in bed by 10 p.m., I did the only thing a newly pregnant woman can do. I sat down on the floor and started sobbing, wondering how I was going to raise my baby(ies) all by myself. I knew it was only a matter of time until they found his cold, lifeless body on the highway to Jerusalem.
And then he called back. He was playing football (oh yeah – it’s Tuesday) in Jerusalem and they had to give their medic a ride back to Hashmonaim before he came home. At which point (cue more tears) there ensued much threatening and muffled angst. I believe “I’m fucking pregnant” featured prominently in the discussion.
After promising that another failure to answer his cell phone would indeed result in his cold, lifeless body for all sorts of other reasons, I feel we’ve reached a mutual understanding. There may have been additional threats about drinking/eating my food and doing the dishes. I managed to swallow another two cups of milk, a cup of orange juice, my vitamins and some Indian food and then I went to bed. Indian food, oh how I love thee. But not before I burst into tears a few more times. The hubby let me have a soft t-shirt of his and I thought that was really nice. So I cried about it. Shit, I’m getting all klempy now just thinking about it. God help me.
Clearly, the emotional aspects of this are going to take some getting use to.
2. I am wide awake and have been for a couple hours now. This is bad. Because I have to leave for work at 2:45 p.m. and newspaper pages wait for no man. I’m having some milk now and might take a shower (I find that if I wear a sports bra in the shower, it hurts less). And then hopefully I can fall back to sleep until about 12:30.
Other things that still blow my mind:
I am pregnant.
I got this way from having sex, of all things.
My breasts, which were not exactly small to begin with, are getting bigger. I fear I will go to sleep at night, roll over on my tummy and smother myself. Who knew that the “tenderness” was actually a survival mechanism?
My clothes are already kind of fitting in a hinky way. I know enough to know I’m not showing, but I am evidently retaining enough water to irrigate most of the Negev. Good times. If you were to do an ultrasound of my abdomen, you would no doubt find a couple camels. This is all the more amazing because of how often I pee. I have always been proud of that fact that I have a Bladder of Steel that could hold it for hours. Now, I pee 3-4 times a night when I’m asleep (okay, obviously, not exactly asleep – I do use a toilet). And I’m not getting anywhere near the suggested amounts of water (instead, I drink four cups of milk and two cups of OJ a day – so far, so good).
The food cravings change by the day (hour?). The aversions are profound and things smell funny.
Anyhoo. My water is hot for my shower now (long story – solar heaters in Israel). And then it’s back to bed.
Edited to add: Malky nailed it for me. A warm shower makes the cleavage feel better, as long as the downpour comes through some sort of restraining device. Thanks for that. It made me sleep better than ever – I got another four hours in.