Of course, I had a lot to be thankful for this Thanksgiving.

Especially these:

I never want to have to wear pants again.

Pants and I didn’t get along so good prior to this and now they are just my nemesis.

I fully expected all kinds of bodily changes but I certainly didn’t expect them so quickly.

I’m two sizes up in regular clothing and finally made my foray into maternity gear.

Sometimes I laugh.

And sometimes I cry.

If it’s like this now, what will it be like a month from now?

Six months from now?

I’m scared to even think about it.

But none of this seems to bother the peanut.

I suppose the P is just making room to dance in there.

And man can those happy feet dance.

First of all, I was not expecting FEET this week.

Last week there were only nubbins for legs.

And this week that little cherry pit was doing a little dance during the ultrasound!

I imagine it was a surge of energy from all the stuffins’ and pie.

And oh so much chocolate.

I basically ate chocolate almond brittle for breakfast until I had a massive craving for salad at lunch.

I almost never crave salad these days.

So I had one two huge plates of salad to appease the belly.

And I’ll take any greens I can muster because I spent the rest of the weekend making fudge.

Of the peanut butter variety.

And then because that didn’t quite do it for me, a batch of the rich, cocoa kind.

And then I set to work on my top secret Christmas Cookie Contest Recipe.

What?

Were you expecting a picture?

I said it was top secret.

Kind of like the Peanut.

For now, anyway.

Being pregnant makes me feel like a big baby.

Because all I want to do is eat and sleep.

Bedtime hovers right around 7:30-8:00PM.

If I’m lucky.

That’s about the time I get finished with dinner, get the kitchen cleaned up, and have a moment left  to turn on the television to the show that I will inevitably fall asleep to within 3.5 seconds.

So.Much.Tiredness.

With days of nausea interspersed throughout.

But overall, this week has felt pretty good.

I think I’ve finally found a routine that works for me + P.

My day starts with a couple of shooters of  a B-complex vitamin and vitamin D.

Then I walk on the treadmill for 40-50 minutes before work.

I tried other pre-natal workouts but even they  left me feeling drained and depleted.

Brisk walking feels glorious and I try to sneak in 1-2 walks per day.

This week I managed to walk almost 25 miles!

Sometimes I feel bad that walking is the only form of exercise I’m getting, but then I realize:

1) Walking makes me feel awesome.

2) Being able to do any exercise right now is awesome.

3. Less squats means my pants fit a whole lot better.

Awesome.

P-Daddy had a pretty exciting week too.

He came to his first ultrasound!

PB is still working on those arms and legs and for a second I thought I had a little turkey in there.

And wouldn’t you know that little turkey actually wiggled on the ultrasound?

Show off.

I’m pretty sure it was all a show for P-Daddy but PB sure was shaken’ a tail feather in there.

Or maybe PB was just excited for Thanksgiving.

I know I am.

I made a practice round of my vegan Turkey Day contribution.

I used THIS recipe and adjusted the amount of ingredients using the ultra exact measuring science of “eyeballing” it.

I can’t wait to smother it in ketchup.

Because EVERYTHING gets smothered in ketchup.

I don’t even think it’s a pregnancy thing.

I think I’m just weird.

Hope that’s not genetic!

GOBBLE TILL YOU WOBBLE!

We have a little game we like to play around here.

It’s called Cravings.

Basically I just randomly call out things that I’m craving.

We can be deep in a debate about the merits of cloth vs. disposable diapers and in the middle of a rant about the complexity of cloth diapers when I blurt out

“Enchiladas!”

A few minutes later you might hear

“Buckeye Bars!”

And about 7.8 seconds after that

“Chocolate cupcakes!”

They hit hard and fast.

It’s an art in agility just trying to dodge those suckers.

But the one that’s been pervasive?

A cream-filled donut.

With crack-ely frosting.

John (known here on out simply as P-Daddy)  doesn’t know what crack-ely frosting is. but I assure you it exists, if only in my mind.

The weird thing is, I’m craving foods I never even liked before.

Like spicy chili with extra hot sauce.

And Nachos with extra hot sauce.

And Tomato Soup with grilled cheese and hot sauce.

I CAN’T EVEN PHYSICALLY EAT HOT SAUCE.

Oh, and LemonHeads.

Any sour candy, really.

Whaaaaaat?

I abhor sour candy.

I was lamenting all this to P-Daddy and he just looked at me with sad, puppy eyes.

“I’m so sorry I did this.”

“Huh?”

He glanced at my new, poochy belly.

“Those are my cravings. I put those in you! It’s in my genes!”

I laughed so hard I cried.

And then I went back to thinking about donuts.

That’s right.

Casper, the friendly gingerbread ghost, wants a donut.

Do you see it?

First I thought it looked like a gingerbread man but then P-Daddy so kindly pointed out that it’s upside down.

Oh, so it’s Casper the ghost then!

Casper can wave with its cute, little nubbin arms.

Yep, I was super busy last week.

I made some arms and some leg stumps, a couple of kidneys, eye sockets, nostril holes, and even started working on a placenta.

I was so tired.

It was the kidneys.

They took it right out of me.

This week I’ve got fingers, knees, and eyelids in the works.

Shouldn’t be too tough.

Sunday, November 16th marks 8 weeks!

Did someone say donuts?

Let me sum up the first six weeks for you.

Smug.

I was so smug.

La la la.

I have so much energy!

I can still run and bike!

I don’t even feel  extra sleepy!

I love oatmeal and salad!

I have so much energy!

La la la.

And then the week 7 assault started.

photo credit

Now I just feel like I’m permanently hungover.

I don’t even have a night of debauchery and drinking to show for it.

I just live in a constant state of fatigue, lethargy, and nausea.

Oh, the nausea.

It’s not so bad that I’m hovering near a toilet (yet), but it has become a permanent fixture in my days.

And she’s a fickle mistress.

She makes food simultaneously repulsive and irrisistable.

But only specific foods at specific times.

And if it’s not a white, starchy carb, get it out of my face.

John tried to hand me some apple cider to fight some post-walk low blood sugar, and if I had the energy, I would have ninja kicked it out of his hand and into the next zip code.

Unless you wait five minutes, in which case I’ll probably be fighting to get it.

The rate and speed at which I experience specific food preferences is in itself, nauseating.

Thank goodness they go as quickly as they come because some of top contenders have been pizza, macaroni and cheese, and lasagna.

This in addition to the box of cocoa puffs and bag of chocolate chips that I polished off last week.

I vowed I would never, ever, be that pregnant lady that used pregnancy as excuse to gorge myself on junk.

SMUG.

It also now requires monumental effort to gather the energy to get off the couch.

Basically, I just lay there for 2-3 hours fantasizing about buttered toast.

And then I plan my day around 1 or 2 tasks and 17 hours of rest.

But it doesn’t mean things haven’t been busy on the inside!

At six weeks and five days, the peanut looks like this:

And we have a heartbeat, folks!

You can’t hear a heartbeat this early, but you can see it flicker on the ultrasound.

Makes my own heart beat pretty fast!

I’ve had 19 whole days to get used to the idea of all of this.

And yet, there are many days that are still washed in a haze of disbelief.

For some reason, it just doesn’t seem real.

Even though there were signs from the beginning.

Like when I could suddenly smell John’s cologne from afar.

As in Maryland.

I swear I could smell that cologne all the way in Maryland even when I was an entire state away.

Ditto for the time I could smell the chewing tobacco infiltrating the crevices of his teeth even though he hadn’t chewed for three days.

It basically took a full dental cleaning before he was granted clearance into my personal space.

I’m also fairly sure I smelled someone cooking a pizza two streets over.

And it smelled delicious.

Another weird sign?

I suddenly wanted dinner for breakfast.

If it was salty and savory, I wanted it in my belly before 10:00 AM.

But I’ve always had quirky habits, so this didn’t grant me much assurance.

What has been reassuring?

Weekly ultrasounds.

That’s right.

Weekly!

The particular doctor I’m working with is a reproductive endocrinologist who got involved pre-pregnancy for some other lady-part related concerns.

A happy side effect of this is that they watch all of their patients very, very carefully.

Perfect for someone like me who is a tad obsessive and needs constant physical and visual proof of this whole experience.

Being able to see that tiny, little black dot on the screen is often very reassuring.

And the screenshot is worth 1000 reassurances.

This is the peanut on October 24th, 2014.

Actually, that’s the gestational sac at 4 weeks and 5 days, if you want to get specific.

And big things can happen in just a week!

This is a week later (5 weeks 5 days) on October 31st, 2014.

Even though the pictures were absolutely proof positive that things were happening in there, things became for real for real when we told the family.

And the winner for the best reaction to the news goes to…..

(DRUM ROLL, PLEASE)

Arnie Johnson, step-father of the mama-to-be for his enthusiastic exclamation of:

“NO FUCKING WAY!”

I know.

I can totally relate to that initial state of disbelief, dear Step-Dad.

Thanks, family, for keeping it real!