14 weeks in

I'm 1/3 done.   And while I'm not sure I just love being pregnant, I can say that I'm starting to hate it a lot less.

Hey, might as well get used to celebrating baby steps.

I remember a mother I highly respect offhandedly mentioning that she hated being pregnant, and I was inwardly shocked, as if she'd told me she likes to kick puppies or something.  Somehow it feels like you're supposed to be this serene, glowing pillar of maternal joy when you're pregnant.  Years later and in my own body, I feel something very different from serenity most days, and I'm particularly grateful for that little side comment.

Don't get me wrong.  I'm terribly excited for the end result.  Pregnancy is just so... physical.

And I don't like the physical.  After my car accidents, I lived solely in the physical realm for what seemed like ages.  Describe your symptoms.  Rate your pain on a scale from 1-10.  Pop this pill.  Show up here.  And here.  And here.

My life stopped, and in its place was a very long recovery process. It was messy.  And I felt messy.  Limited.  Stuck.

I'll admit: it's been almost seven years, and yet returning to that physical world brought on some panic, even for such a happy reason. Eat the right stuff. Make sure you don't eat any of the wrong stuff! Drop dead at 2pm everyday. Pop these pills. Show up here. Pee now. And now. And now. I don't CARE if it's a gas station, it has a place to pee. If it's one of those ones without a bathroom, I'm going to have a short cry and then squat outside on the pavement.

Also: where the hell are the Tums?!?

Justin jokingly called me The Host, and for a while, that's pretty much what I felt like.

Then, mercifully, the nausea and puking lessened, and I began sleeping more or less through the night (except for all those requisite trips to the bathroom).

I have enough energy to get my work done, and I'm excited about my projects.

A little tummy bump showed up... and now I can't keep my hands from drawing little circles on it.

I wear comfy maternity jeans with the stretchy belly now and am considering making them a permanent addition to my wardrobe.

And, perhaps most importantly, I'm reading. A ton. I haven't read this much in forever. It helps me feel like there are other things rolling around in my head than how much calcium I've gotten today or whether or not I remembered to take my prenatals. To tell you the truth, I'm actually looking forward to all the time I'll have to read over the next six months. It may be the thing that's helped me quit wishing I could hit fast-forward.

The Harry Potter series doesn't know what hit it. Any suggestions on what to read next? At my current rate, I'll be done with HP by next Thursday.  :)