Let it be known:

Naomi is posting weekly how she feels as her pregnancy progresses. You might have noticed that I'm not doing that. Here's why:
I feel like crap.
All the time.
I don't need to tell you once a week, interweb, that I feel lousy.
I guess I should mention how I feel at least once, though, since this is serving as a baby book type thingy for my children.
So there.
I am counting the days until I am in the second trimester and will hopefully start to feel better, but as I start Week 11, I have low hopes. I am dizzy and nauseous, my stomach hurts ALL. THE. TIME. If I don't eat regularly (which is the last thing I want to do), I get more dizzy and nauseous. My hips and thighs ache. My nose, as previously mentioned, is on hyperdrive, I cry at commercials, gameshows and sitcoms, and I can't sleep at night time. During the day, should you appear without calling, if--and that's a big, fat IF--I answer the door, I will most likely have just gotten up from a near-permanent prone position on the couch (which, incidentally, my feet hang off the end--it's a pitiful sight). Coca-Cola, my former BFF, makes me unbelievably sick and gassy. Oh, and can we talk about GAS? This AIR that is trapped in my body? WHERE IS IT COMING FROM??? I think Richard is contemplating moving in with Shirley Jean. I can't say I blame him.
And on top of it all, I struggle daily with the fear of failing at mothering not one, but TWO children.
Feel sorry for me, interweb.
In happier news, this week, BittyWee can open and close his/her fists, his/her bones are beginning to harden and s/he is forming tooth buds that (God willing) will not appear in Baby's mouth until s/he is about 6 months old. Keep your fingers crossed. BittyWee measures 1.5 inches, about the size of a fig. I'm gonna go out and buy a fig this week, so I can hold it in my hand.

Craving of the week: Gas-X.

Uncomfortable

I woke up this morning having some Braxton Hicks contractions. No big deal, right?
The truth is that it really wasn't that painful, just more uncomfortable than anything, and not a very fun way to start the day. The bummer is that I stayed uncomfortable for most of the morning.
This poses a problem.
At work, or in public, or wherever I may happen to be, when people ask me how I am feeling, I can answer one of two ways: 1. I can tell the truth. 2. I can say I am fine. To be fair, #2 is usually the truth. I'm not a total liar.
If I say I am fine, people are thrilled.
If I say I am feeling a little uncomfortable, every. single. person (except Mrs. Gray). says, "If you think you're uncomfortable now..."
In the same vein as Carla's post, I'd like to change this phrase. No, I'd like to obliterate it.
Stop saying that to me. Stop telling me "this is nothing." I really don't have a lot to complain about, I know. Some girls have really hard pregnancies, and I'm so thankful I'm not one of them.
But sometimes, I am uncomfortable.
You asked.

The same goes for, "If you think you're tired now..."
That one's almost worse.