I've come a to very important conclusion thus far in the pregnancy; even though this is the coolest thing I've ever done, even though it's absolutely awesome to know I'm creating a child, and even though we're both thrilled beyond belief about meeting this kid...I don't much LIKE being pregnant.
I know, I know. I'm almost afraid to admit this because of the reactions it will inevitably receive. I know it's a gift, a choice, a marvelous chance and it will CHANGE MY LIFE (and again, I've wanted to have kids since I was...oh, twelve), but actually being pregnant is one of those things it was impossible to visualize. So, apparently, I didn't. Maybe this will change immediately once I feel a flutter or get that next cool ultrasound (they are cool), but for now, I'm a little ready to put the nausea, ligament pains, hip and headaches, 'round the clock peeing and heartburn in the timeout chair. And, as everyone keeps telling me, JUST WAIT! Gosh. And the responses I get are invariably of two camps; the Let Me Tell You About My Horrid Experience folks and the Circle Of Life singers.
Not that I'd wish this away for a million bucks, mind you, just a casual [and sleepy] observation. (Something I WOULD give up for a million dollars- or, let's face it, for free- would be the power of supersonic smelling. Especially on a Western bus that reeks of pee. Double especially if it's a breaky-down bus that can't rev above 5mph.) I'm quite eager to meet Baby Schoeny. Between the two parents, we're quite convinced that the kiddo will possess big eyes, crazy hair and a mile-wide grin. (We're already saving up for orthodontics.) And, given the career paths of the baby's folks, the child will most likely not be shy. Or conservative. (Although, who knows? How do you rebel against two left-wing actors? Become Alex P. Keaton?)
I love Michael J. Fox.
I HAVE managed to get a bit of work done with the infrequent but blessed bursts of energy of late; I've finished and formatted five scenes (in a week!) for the murder mystery, waaay trumping my previous goal of one scene. Per month. (I have been tiiiiiiired.) Formatting is easy enough- I've just been trying to get it into one type of document (usually FinalDraft) from whatever I've been jotting notes on: backs of receipts, triangles of construction paper, fake shorthand on my Blackberry (actual note for a scene: 'Rs sprsd trpz klr.*') I need to learn real shorthand. Or just stop being so darned lazy.
You know what this stormy, mucky, swine-flu-panicky day calls for? Besides a nap and a mask? A taco. The perfect pregnancy food (protein, dairy, carbs, SALT and veggies) and, dare I say, the perfect comfort food. Um, the perfect Mexican comfort food.
Oh no...
*The shorthand stands for 'Rosie is surprised on the trapeze by the killer.' It's kinda going to be the best play ever.
2 comments:
So, as you know, I really do love you. I love your writing and am always a fan but this post really and truly cracks me up. I love your humor!! It is humah?? No?
xoxox
What? How can you not adore being absolutely, totally uncomfortable, hmmmm???
The second trimester IS better, though. The first you have all the crap you said. The second, you're kind of used to it, and you get a lot of energy.
When trimester 3 rolls around, you'll be so big that it'll be all you can do to roll from room to room.
Asher's waiting to meet his new friend.
-Ari
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