I was on the bus the other day on the way home from school, when one of the crazies that Santa Monica is famous for decided to sit next to me and talk to me about my geology textbook. While he could name the three different categories of rocks, said he had been to more than 18 countries and was really just out to converse with himself, he really didn’t do anything wrong. Well – except for talking to a pregnant woman in her first trimester on a bus that was sitting in traffic. While my first reaction was oh no, here we go again, I quickly got angry, then sad, then annoyed, and finally sick. I was going to throw up on him, and there was nothing I could do about it. I’m not sure what my facial expressions were doing for those ten minutes, but I’m sure they would have scared me if I was him. Thankfully, he got off the bus relatively quickly and I made it to my stop without making a mess. I ran off the bus and found myself dry heaving on the street in Santa Monica.
You see, being pregnant means not having any idea what the next five minutes will bring. While one minute I am energetic, happy and getting work done, the next minute I am sleeping at my desk, nauseous, or crying. Smells are pretty much just plain awful, and food is pretty gross as well. The vitamins are gigantic and make me even more nauseous. My waist is disappearing but hey my boobs are getting bigger (and more painful).
It seems that pregnancy really is mother nature’s biggest paradox: as all these things are happening and the hormones are rushing through me making me not even recognize myself — I couldn’t be happier. I have a baby growing inside of me. The statement is so obvious and yet so incomprehensible to me. I can’t describe the feelings that rush through me every day, except to say that this is so real. It’s not something that is going to go away tomorrow, or a sickness that I have to get over, this is a life-changing beautiful thing, and I look forward to 33 more weeks of back-aches, foot-aches, and hormones.
