Note the date of this blog post :)
So I thought I'd keep you abreast of my latest absurd pregnancy experiences; all of which merit counseling, drugs, or lock-up if not for the pregnancy:) Aside from comic value, relating these stories is cathartic for me. This one is categorized as "hormones"--a new variety to add to the typical nausea stories.
Last week I went to have my eyebrows waxed. The lady who waxed my eyebrows name is Michelle. Michelle exuded motherliness. I'm sure you will agree, that you never stop desiring the comfort of your own mother. And the newness of every major rite of passage in life makes you yearn for your mother's guidance and comfort.
Like I said, Michelle had this motherly way about her. Little did she know that as she waxed and tore my stray brows, it was all I could do not to ask her for a hug. Never mind that Michelle resembled nothing of my mom. Michelle is a large black woman. After it was over, I asked her for facial advice, given how pasty and sickly I've looked lately, replete with baby induced nausea. Explaining my angle, that I was pregnant, brought tears to my eyes. I've had that experience before, starting to weep when sharing something personal with someone caring and loving. So there I was. Weeping to my esthetician, asking for the right facial option. " *sniff,* *sniff, microderm abrasion and deep conditioning? You think? Aw, thanks so much for your help." I'm sure Michelle thought the tears were from the hot wax. Little did she know.
Hormones, anyone?
Because this piece of history will never repeat itself...
Thursday, February 7, 2008
First-Trimester Thoughts
I'm in my first trimester still, so bear with me here. I've been reassured by mom's book and numerous websites that in exactly 17 days, 2 hours and 33 minutes, hormones will drop, appetite will increase and nausea will say its goodbye; and subsequently, I should begin recording warm fuzzy pregnancy experiences.
For now though, asking Juan for a bite of his ravioli, and then pushing it away as soon as it was an inch from my mouth, watching him eat, hungry, thinking it looked good, asking again for a bite, and then making a run for the bathroom as soon as it was within an inch of my nose, something horrific occurred to me: The frequency with which women ALLOW themselves to get pregnant with another child. As in AGAIN. As in--experiencing these things while taking care of another child. Wow. Does God slip something in your drink after you deliver that makes you forget? Other moms I talked to recently, with infants and toddlers in tow, excited for my news, all commented that WOW! They didn't remember what it was like to be pregnant. Even just weeks later. After I deliver, just so you know, I am going to record my experiences on my forehead everyday so that I remember. hahaha. And I don't even have it that bad. How do women do it? Mom, WHY?
I only share the dark side with the outlook of the dawn to come.
LOVE YOU!
Meg and P.I.T.B Parra.
For now though, asking Juan for a bite of his ravioli, and then pushing it away as soon as it was an inch from my mouth, watching him eat, hungry, thinking it looked good, asking again for a bite, and then making a run for the bathroom as soon as it was within an inch of my nose, something horrific occurred to me: The frequency with which women ALLOW themselves to get pregnant with another child. As in AGAIN. As in--experiencing these things while taking care of another child. Wow. Does God slip something in your drink after you deliver that makes you forget? Other moms I talked to recently, with infants and toddlers in tow, excited for my news, all commented that WOW! They didn't remember what it was like to be pregnant. Even just weeks later. After I deliver, just so you know, I am going to record my experiences on my forehead everyday so that I remember. hahaha. And I don't even have it that bad. How do women do it? Mom, WHY?
I only share the dark side with the outlook of the dawn to come.
LOVE YOU!
Meg and P.I.T.B Parra.
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