A Moment Wherein My Head is Not in the Toilet

Yeah, so I’m still pregnant. I know, I forget sometimes too. Except for the whole part where I’ve been looking at the underside of my toilet bowl for the past seven weeks or so.

I am not a very good housekeeper, let’s put it that way.

I’m mostly 11+ weeks along now. I say “mostly” because, based on my last Monthly Visitor (that’s my last period), I’m 11 weeks 2 days today. But I Hatch Eggs (that’s ovulate) late in my cycle, so I’m only 10 weeks 6 days based on that. That puts my due date between 12/20 and 12/23. We’ll go with the former, earlier date for simplicity’s sake.

Moving on.

This pregnancy has sucked approximately 18 times more than the last one. It’s taking forever. Obviously, this is not good, seeing I have 29 more weeks of this. I’m significantly sicker and much more tired than last time. Until a few nights ago, I couldn’t even eat dinner most of the time. The sickness seems to be easing up but good Christ, this fetus has it in for me.

Other things:

• Sense of smell was pretty intense for a while there. My own husband smelled like putrid death/expired salad dressing for several weeks. (Yes, I knew I was pregnant in that post. GRILL!!)
• My guts seem to have retained the memory of their former, displaced locations. My uterus might not be that big, but my intestines, lungs and stomach have already shifted to their official pregnancy locations, causing my abdomen to puff out, bloat and generally make me weep in despair.
• I can’t eat chicken again. Same as last pregnancy. Because when I think of cooked chicken, I think of raw chicken. And raw chicken makes me think of something worse — slightly undercooked chicken. And that is just fowl.
• My sense of humor has apparently been reduced to poultry puns.
• My gut tells me it’s a boy. Based on the size and shape of my gut, I’d say it’s pretty trustworthy.

I don’t know how I’m going to make it through this pregnancy. We have some stressful house/money stuff going on, on top of my increasingly-awesome-yet-more-complex twin toddler situation thing, which makes it difficult to just lie on the couch and die every day.