Facebook update: RogueBambi spent the night puking and not because of the swell party she attended.
Just to let you know, things didn’t go quite as planned. I’m pregnant. I know I am, even though my calender only gives me a day since my ovulation. It must have happened last saturday morning, when we were still discussing and ended up having sex. Wonderboy saw no reason to withdraw seeing that we were considering to start trying soon, anyway. I was shocked some, because I wasn’t sure of his stance, but couldn’t get him to really come clean about his emotions. But after I spent the whole day on a picnic with my friends, came back and had sex with him again, I thought everything was dandy. Which it wasn’t.
Then we finally ended the month long discussion, made a pact and were happily excepting the new free space.
Since last night.
I knew I was about to ovulate. Heck, he knew I was about to ovulate, because of the changes in you know where, and my growing eagerness to you know what. Suddenly I woke in the morning, 4 am to be precise, after sleeping a couple of hours. I was in so much pain and it was all happening in my uterus. It was kind of like period cramps but somehow more pulsing, causing me to get nauseated and withering all over. I couldn’t sleep and neither did he. He snapped at me, tired and cranky: Now you’re pregnant then! That’s all the consolidation I got from my lover while suffering from kind of terrifying pain, a new and odd sensation.
After the worst was over, that is after I popped a pill of ibuprofen and ate some youghurt and melon, I could not stop thinking about sugar, butter and eggs. I wanted to eat the mix of those ingredients. Now, I’ve been on many, many diets and am on one now (mostly meat, milk products and veggies) and I am usually very good at getting past these kinds of cravings, but I just couldn’t let this one go. I couldn’t sleep, the need to eat sugar and butter was so grave. (Sounds plausible now doesn’t it?) So, I got up, went to the cubboards and checked what we had. Butter, eggs, sugar and some limes. I threw in dark chocoa powder and put the thing to the oven. After 30 minutes I had a Lime chocolate cake on my hands, made by me, with a recipy I just made up. So that I could eat – butter and sugar. Doesn’t sound at all obsessive does it? After eating I fell a sleep and had a terrible sex dream which I’ll tell you guys about later.
I did think this is what I always thought pregnant women feel like. No, not so much feel like, but do. Crave crazy things. Eating sugar is kind of crazy for me since I don’t regularly use any. Not even in its starch form.
After Wonderboy had made that snide remark on me being pregnant, which wasn’t the first thought in my mind, seeing I was suffering pain and didn’t really expect that from pregnancy at this point, I googled the first signs of pregnancy. I learnt many women do actually now right from the start. So much for the mystery. So much for waiting the doctor to tell you, waiting for the test results, the period not to start. I was effing puking all over the place! My uterus was telling me that there was something trying to hold on to dear life there.
Suddenly I was serene. I had this picnic party to attend to, so I did. I’ve never felt so unconcerned. I didn’t join on the chit chat. I was content. Far away from the anxiety and overt emotional drama I was waiting for when these news and at this time – from all times! – to be revealed to me.
I texted Wonderboy from the way to the picnic: I sit here, sipping my non-alcoholic drink, feeling every bump in the road on my insides like there’s something lulling there that has to be kept safe. I’m so peaceful, I feel complete.
Crazy, right? If yesterday (and night) was the day (and night) the blastocyst implanted (the egg with the future baby in it) and saturday was the day the egg was fertilized, it took the egg five days to travel from my fallopian tube to my uterus. Five days! Or the other option is, that the sperm survived many days in me to wait for the frigging egg. And this is what they always warned us about in sex ed. So now I’m warning you, sisters. You can’t really count on the ovulation time, it seems. Those sperms are tricky little bastards.
So, what I’m wondering is of course this: how the fuck can I already know? How can it have already changed me? It’s just a tiny little egg sitting in my uterus and going ommmmm. To be or not to be. But I do, you know. I feel it. Every moment. I feel it when I walk. It feels like something is dangerously swinging in me, that I have to be careful or it might fall. I feel it when I lie down. Its pressing presence is like a pain, but not really painful, just a pressing feeling. And I feel it when it sends the strings of nausea through my whole body. I get goose pumps and feel like I’m somehow disintegrating.
But I can’t feel any uneasiness. This morning I woke up after a night of praying the porcelain gods for mercy and felt the nausea come back. Felt the pressure, the fragility of my tummy. Wonderboy couldn’t open up at all. He was angry, as he was last night too, because he was soooo tired. He had all the right excuses and none of them hid what they were supposed to.
Finally I snapped at him and said that this is not about you being tired. It’s about something else entirely, and you know it.
Oh what you mean like you being pregnant? he asked in his challenging voice. I just said yes. Yes. As in, yes I am. You better believe it.
And then Wonderboy asked if we should go cuddle some.
So we talked. I cried and he had his all black little-boy-eyes. He said he felt bad because it wasn’t what we talked about. We were supposed to wait yet a little. He said he was anxious, and he kind of hinted at it being somehow sinister that we’re probably going to have a baby. And I answered that those kinds of feelings are a luxury I cant’ afford right now. I have to take care of it. And I need you to take care of it too.
He was scared shitless, and I do understand why. But I can’t be, as I explained him. It won’t let me. It needs me to take care of it. All my muscles just relax, my mind can’t find the adrenaline to pour through the anxiety and stress I’m supposed to be feeling. The ones he’s feeling right now. I also explained how it feels in my tummy, that it’s about to fall or I’m about to break and I have to be so careful. So, so careful. He said that he can relate to the bodily feelings, but not the serenity.
Before he left for work though, he suddenly came pretty chipper, even happy. (Maybe it helped that I kissed his naked penis a little when he came from the shower. It just looked so inviting.) He kissed me and hugged me and said Dang, if I’d known you’d be this mellow I’d done this sooner. That’s a private joke that relates to my, ummm, edgines. It’s so true. I’m so mellow now, and just feel I love everybody.
Dang, if I’d only known.