Friday, April 22, 2016


Week nine – I’m on an elevator. 

“How far along are you?” asks a male neighbor, presumptuously. 
Smiling, I reply “about nine weeks.”

“Wow!” he exclaims.  “My wife’s four months and you’re MUCH bigger than her.”

Week twelve – A family member gasps at the sight of me and insists I replace cookies with salad for the remainder of my prenatal period. 

Teary-eyed, I retrieve Chips Ahoy from the supermarket.

Week fifteen – I engage my pants in a twenty minute battle for closure.  Finally, my button submits – victory!  Walking into the office however, I discover I’ve forgotten the zipper.  RETREAT!

OK, so I popped early.  And yes, my clothes are snug.  And wow, people are not shy!

But I don’t need any reminders, guys.  Life reminds me constantly!

I’m blessed to have never really struggled with my weight.  This is the biggest I’ve ever been.  And while I’m THRILLED to be pregnant, it has already taken a wee toll.  I mean, walking is hard; sleeping is hard; driving is hard!  I’m not whining, but in the immortal words of Ron Burgundy “that escalated quickly!”

Being a positive person I decided to embrace my bump and schedule a cute WE’RE PREGNANT photo shoot.  Excitedly, I made plans to pick up booties and pumpkins and bellylicious outfits.  That was until I was asked “…but are you really big enough for a photo shoot like that?”

Well – I don’t know. 

What’s big enough? 

What’s too big? 

I’m trying to turn lemons into lemonade here, people (errr fat into Facebook likes) – somebody please throw me a bone!

All of that said, my doctor says I’m right on track.  

So please excuse me while I tune you out and get ready for my close up.

Monday, April 4, 2016


I sat on the couch, surrounded by boxes, fighting back angry tears.  With half my kitchen packed up, Will and I were at the mercy of the pizza delivery guy --- and he was late. 

Way late. 

Two and a half hours late. 

“Where the !@#$ is this guy?!” I screamed.  By now I was pacing the cardboard laden apartment.

Poor Will sat white knuckling his phone.  “I… I don’t know, boo.  They’re usually on time.”

“I HAVE to eat, Will – you don’t understand!”

“Okay.  I’ll call again.”

This hunger was desperate.  I had never experienced anything like it.  I was Shirley MacLaine and that pizza was the shot to end my child’s agony.  All she had to do was hold on ‘til 8 and its past 10:30.  GIVE MY FETUS THE FOOOOOOOOD!!!

This was not my only meltdown. 

A week prior I became completely overwhelmed by a plumbing fixture catalog.  Ironically, the only place I felt safe was the tub.  There I sat fully clothed, curtain drawn until I decided which shower head to buy for our master loo.

Fast forward to week 12:  sobbing alone in a work bathroom stall because I couldn’t recall the last time I looked deeply into my husband’s eyes.  Moments later I would think of nachos and feel much better.

This pregnancy schizophrenia baffled Will.  “You’re only a little pregnant” he would say “how could you already feel this [hungry/moody/tired]?” 

I wanted to be mad at that question, but the truth is I was confused too.  I was once a sane person.  How did I go from 0 to 60 seemingly overnight?

The answer of course is hormones.  Estrogen and progesterone may be vital to the construction of human life but they also make you a sweaty, snotty, tender, exhausted raving bitch-monster.

I'm happy to report that with my first trimester coming to a welcomed close, I'm finally feeling a little more stable. 

But make no !@#$ing mistake --- I’m still not sharing my mozzarella sticks. 

Especially when they arrive three hours late.

Friday, April 1, 2016


It was after 8 PM that mild January evening when I finally collapsed in a defeated heap on the couch.  Will trailed behind me.  “Food?” he asked.  “Food!” I demanded.  The events of the day had drained and starved us.  But, somewhere between the disorganized walk-through, the delayed closing and the maddening negotiations – Will and I were homeowners.    

After months of underwriting, haggling and check-writing – we had won!

I expected to wake up eager to pack our apartment and pick bathroom fixtures.  Instead, I was utterly hung over.  Stress always knocks me out and it seemed the closing had allowed a cold to sneak in.  I made the earliest possible appointment with my physician and shuffled off to work.

I was early to my appointment that Thursday, desperate for an antibiotic or ANYTHING to cure this fatigue.  I hadn’t felt this tired since Lyme disease and no amount of sleep seemed to help. 

The nurse’s line of questioning was pretty typical. 
“When did this start?”
“Any allergies that you’re aware of?”
“Are you pregnant?”

When I didn’t answer her last question, the nurse looked up from her notes.

“Am I pregnant?”

Until that moment it hadn’t occurred to me.  Since our honeymoon, I put myself through a roller-coaster self-doubt, excitedly purchasing pregnancy tests each 27th of the month only for my period to come the next day.  It got to be so ridiculous that my Mom actually snapped “Don’t buy any more tests until you’re late!” 

Fair enough.

“It’s possible,” I told the nurse “but not likely.”

 “I see here it’s possible you’re pregnant?” the doctor asked, scanning the notes.
“I’m not late or anything, but it’s possible.” I conceded.
“Well let’s take a urine sample and find out.”

At least home pregnancy tests relieve your suspense in a matter of minutes.  It had been HOURS since I left the doctor’s office and still no word.  Anxious, I phoned around 4 but he’d already gone for the day. 

The next morning, my anxiety was gone.  I was crampy so I popped a tampon and started to get ready for work.
“What’s the weather supposed to be today?” Will asked from the living room.
“Not too bad.” I said, pinning my hair up. 

The phone rang and with my hands busy I just threw it on speaker phone.

“Alex, I’m so sorry for the delay but I JUST got the results of your pregnancy test.”

I didn’t even stop what I was doing as I heard him shuffling papers on the other end.

“Hmm, okay…” he said, “It’s positive.”

“Wait… what?”

“It’s positive.”

“So… wait, positive means… that I’m pregnant.”

“You’re pregnant.”

“I’m pregnant??”

“You’re pregnant!!!”


“This is good news, right?”

“Oh my God… of course!  Of course!” I said.

I then remembered Will was still in the next room.  I hung up with the doctor and walked in to find him completely still, somewhat happy but mostly bewildered.

“I assume... you heard…” I asked tentatively.


My eyes filled with tears as he swept me into the biggest hug of my life.

"I can't believe we have to go to work now like nothing happened!"

He looked down at me and said lovingly “I guess it’s a good thing we bought that house, huh?”