When I found out I was pregnant, the only real symptoms I had were that I was tired and my breasts were really sensitive. When I say "really sensitive" I mean that I had to dress and undress very deliberately in case the fabric brushed them the wrong way. Silly me, I thought it was PMS despite that never having been one of my symptoms before.
I'm always tired. I can sleep forever. I have always loved naps. I am not sure if I worked in the theatre because I loved the job or the hours. I will gladly stay up into the wee hours of the morn, just don't wake me before 10 am. I am really not the right person for motherhood given this particular weakness - kids are, for the most part, morning people. Like my grandmother. Mom and I were convinced Gram was adopted. No one should be cheerful at 6 am. Mutant. Anyway, tired didn't seem like a symptom of pregnancy. It was just that I finally had a chance to fulfill some nap wishes and I should be tired after my first semester of graduate school. Stress and whatnot.
Queasy... The first time I remember being queasy was after the Yule celebration. I knew I was pregnant at this point, so I treated it like morning sickness. Pretzels, crackers, cheese for protein, ginger ale, and lemonade. Parties are awesome for scrounging tummy settling snacks. Since Bryn was spending the night out at the fire with Ed to make sure the sun came back (old Asatru thing, very neat tradition, second year I've had to forgo it), I curled up in the big comfy chair at their house, slightly propped up. Bishop is the doofiest chocolate lab in the universe, and I adore him, except when he is breathing in my face. Since he is the kind and compassionate type, he was in my face trying to make sure I was okay the entire time I was queasy. I hate shoving him, but he takes hints like an anvil. Dog breath + queasy = dear God, save me!
The Christmas holiday went off without a hitch. I was a little queasy, but I still got to eat. I was a little tired, but I still got to see everyone. Then we drove Alex to meet her father, and Bryn and I were going to have some alone time. We were looking forward to being grown-ups. Tuesday, I felt really sick. Nothing appealed to me. Wednesday it was worse. And then I threw up. I don't do that. Ever. I had friends that worried I was going to die of alcohol poisoning because I don't throw up. Less than ten is the number of times I have thrown up. I don't do it. I prayed the entire time that I was really sick and it wasn't morning sickness.
Thursday I got a call from Alex's dad. She's had a fever since Tuesday and she threw up on Wednesday. What do I want to do? Since Bryn had been suffering with a head/chest cold thing for the past couple of days, I had the stomach thing, and Alex wanted to do nothing but sleep, why don't we just pick her up a bit earlier on Friday than planned? Grampa decided that a sick kid was not a deterrent, so we met at the usual time. Alex slept the entire way home.
We were all gross and sick, so I took Alex to the pediatrician once we got back into town. The pediatrician said it was the Yuckavirus, a bug going around, and the best treatment was Tylenol and popsicles. Boo cheered at that. She was cuddly and snuggly for a few days and then the fever broke. She's been more snuggly with Bryn since her fever, but I think it's because I'm so touchy about my stomach.
Everyone else feels much better. Bryn gets headaches and Boo falls down, but I'm still tired and queasy. I want to feel better. I remember being pregnant with Alex as some of the best feeling times of my life. I felt healthy. My allergies went away. My lactose intolerance went away. I just felt good! Please let the queasies go away...
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