what else to expect when you're expecting vol. 1 (the intro)

As of this coming Saturday, I will be six months pregnant. For the most part, I haven't really written anythingabout the most bonkers six months of my life. At the beginning I was too wiped, too creatively chloroformed to even think about sitting down and writing a website entry. Everything I loved prior to January 14, 2010, the date the test showed positive, ceased to be interesting. I haven't even LOOKED at an US Weekly since then. Now that, that they don't tell you about.

I went into this pregnancy blind, literally, remember the pus coming out my eyes on NYE? That was my body's first signal that we had an alien invader. There is no grosser way to remember the beginning of a new life, but that's what my kid's got for a bedtime story.

I did, in my infinite wisdom and self-awareness of a memory that's like clumps of wet sand, jot things down over the first few weeks and months, when even sitting upright was a Herculean feat. Now that I'm feeling semi-human, even having days where I forget I can't see my bikini line and have to shave like my vagina is braille, I want to tell you what this has been like for me.

I apologize in advance to male relatives/friends for the details that will surely make you never think of me the same again. But to all the girls, all my girls, who haven't embarked on this science experiment of a journey, this information should prove useful. Or terrifying. Depends on how you feel about things like this note I wrote myself on February 26th, "I would pay $100 for diarrhea." That sums up a lot.

So, I'll do this in spurts, so that it's not too much baby down your throat. (Side note: I have been campaigning FOR YEARS to be able to give birth alternatively by throwing the kid up, instead of bearing it down and out the way it went in. And I am now REALLY effing good at throwing up. I guess modern medicine just isn't ready for this type of innovation and forward thinking.)

(And I know there are approximately 40,000 mommy/baby blogs bumping around out in the internetsphere, and who am I to add yet one more? Well, I'm me. And the stuff I wish I knew about going in is what I plan to divulge to you.) 

The next installment: How dunking a $14 plastic stick into an inch of pungent morning pee changes everything.