I had a little (blog) existential crises last week. I am glad to report it's gone. Thank you all for your encouragement. It helped a lot. I did some soul searching and thought about why I started this blog in the first place. And then I remembered. I was going to report the progress of pregnancy week by week, and speak fearlessly about those things pregnant women usually keep to themselves, because they are too embarrassed or ashamed. So then people only hear from celebrities who love being pregnant, glow in designer clothes, and have natural births that lasts 45 hours and they never stop bragging about what a spiritual experience that was for them, as they strut down the runway 3 days postpartum, looking perkier than the rest of us did at the age of 14.
Which means that now I have to get to the stuff other women don't talk about. I've already explained about how you can offend a pregnant woman by telling her she looks good. I also learned from that same post that I am a crazy hormonal mess, which is exactly the point of this blog. But this is different. If any of you felt uneasy when reading about my zofran constipation experience, you kind of know what will follow shortly. So brace yourselves. I am almost 12 weeks along and things are happening. I'll start with the worst one, so we can get it out of the way.
Vaginal odor - now this is something I really hoped would never end up in my internet search. You know, in case I get murdered, or I get accused of a murder, and police comes and confiscates my laptop. This will be by far the most embarrassing item in my search. Maybe not as convincing of my guilt as "chloroform" or "accidental drowning", but I think if I know that they know, I'd rather die (if I wasn't murdered yet) or apply for a death sentence (if I wasn't convicted yet). Pre-internet, women just worried about these things silently, because they were too ashamed to ask about it. Nowadays, you google it, read a myriad of responses ranging from "you're pregnant, stupid, of course there is a weird smell!" to "you probably contracted a deadly disease that normally only occurs in Congo when the moon is full and the cows in Pennsylvania refuse to be milked", and then you can decide which answer suits your personality best.
Raspberry nipples - they are big, and they are as red as Snow White's lips, and they glisten. I have no idea why they glisten, but they do. Every time I leave the shower and I see them (it's impossible not to see them) I catch myself humming "Rudolph, the Red-Nosed Reindeer".
Bad Hair - you know that widely spread rumor about women getting luscious locks when pregnant? I have heard it, but I have never lived it. Not with Kai, not this time around either. My hair looks like what we in Slovakia call "peed-on-hay". It doesn't keep any shape and it is flat and disgusting.
Mustache - I don't really grow hair above my upper lip, but the pigmentation is setting in and the resulting look is the same. Sun makes it worse and guess where I live? Yes, that's right, in a place where summer lasts all year long. I have been searching for a hat that would protect my face and cover my bad hair, but have not succeeded yet.
Sex life - I have heard similar rumors as the ones with hair - that it gets better when pregnant. Well, draw your own conclusions here - with constant nausea, vaginal odor, bad hair and a mustache (not quite sure how raspberry nipples fit in), my drive is less than zero. I assume after my husband reads this post, his will be in the same range. So yeah, another myth debunked. Sorry about that.
If you are wondering about the picture above, it is a follow up on my other post about complimenting me while I feel sick. The photo on the left shows how I let you see me. The one on the right is what I look like most of the time, and trust me, I feel worse than I look, even in that photo. And now you know.
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