Now, don't get me wrong, Brian and I are both thrilled about being pregnant and we can hardly wait to bring our bundle of joy home from the hospital!
However, t here are good things to deal with, and there are not-really-bad-but-oh-so-hard-to-get-used-to changes to deal with. I'll cover a few of both.
You get treated like a Divine Goddess. Brian won't let me do anything - including carry groceries, jumping, walking, standing for long periods of time, laundry, bending, squatting or reaching. I've heard that all husbands are not like this, but my Briguy is a hero. He's treating me like royalty and I'm getting rather spoiled.
However, I'm not so good at "down time," or having to rely on others to do what I consider to be MY work, so this normally self-confident, self-sufficient person, who never worries about having to depend on another soul, is now having nightmares about "being a burden" to the family (namely Brian). I also have other weird dreams - but that's a totally new topic....
I'm not quite ANY size. I've taken on the shape of a box. I don't really look pregnant. I no longer have a waist. I can't button any of my regular pants, and maternity clothes aren't quite what I need yet. So I'm in that "Walmart sweatpants and Brian's tee-shirts" stage right now.
Food, glorious food. I have a list of about a thousand foods (or so it seems) that I have to eat every day. Normally I would be leaping for joy about being able to eat it all and not having to worry about weight gain - but:
A) Brian won't let me leap
B) None of it sounds appetizing because I'm queasy
B) I frequently throw it all up
So a giant calcium-rich cup of yogurt sounds gets the same digestive reaction as a giant cup of chilled snot.
A nice healthy plate of protein-rich meat looks like three-day old road kill to me.
The only thing I continuously crave is balogna sandwiches with cheap dill pickle chips and plain yellow mustard. I think I could live on them for the rest of my life.