13 is Our Lucky Number

(Journaled on August 29, 2011)

I am not superstitious in the least, but I do have a new appreciation for the number 13, since it was at exactly 13 weeks that my morning sickness started to dissipate. Thank you, Jesus!

Morning sickness became my constant companion early on in the pregnancy, but considering other women’s accounts of how their first trimester went, I would say mine was more than manageable. I felt moderately nauseous morning, noon and night (evenings were the worst), but nothing that I could not manage with some ginger candies, “preggie pops”, ginger ale, and a strict eating schedule of small meals every 3 hours. I did get “sick” a few times, but those were few and far between. However, if you ask Denny, I was deathly ill. I think it’s because he had never seen me sick for so long. Like I mentioned, the evenings were the worst, and that is when we spend the most time together, and like I failed to mention, the fatigue WAS pretty bad. I was taking long naps after work, and going to bed around 9pm. My poor husband… he is such a trooper. Never once did he complain about having to fix his own meal for the 15,000 time since July.

We went on vacation while we were 10 weeks along, and that was seriously the best week of the entire pregnancy (up to that point). We entered our 11^th week while on vacation and I was still feeling great, even hiked up a mountain that day! Then, we came home and at 11 weeks and 5 days… BAM! Talk about never being so sick in my life! Morning sickness hit me with a VENGENCE. I was REALLY sick, all day, every day, for about a week and a half (I know… some other women should be so lucky). I actually thanked God every day that this had not been going on for 12 straight weeks, and then reminded Him that I was about, or in, my 12^th week and that it was time for my hormones to level out and me to start feeling like my old self again… or as close to. Like He needed ME to remind Him! I also continually reminded myself that this meant the baby is healthy and growing, but warned Denny that “his” son or daughter would have to be REALLY nice to me once he/she was born for the butt-kicking I was receiving from him/her at the time.

Then came 13 weeks… ahh… relief! I woke up Saturday morning and ate what has become my usual breakfast of cinnamon-raisin bagels and Nutella (don’t judge me, I’m trying not to starve my child), got in the shower, and got ready to head down to FTL fully expecting the unrelenting waves of nausea to hit somewhere between blow drying my hair and jumping on the Turnpike. To my surprise, I made all the way down to FTL, had lunch at my cousin’s birthday and dinner at my uncle’s house, including birthday cake at both, and was not one bit sick. Sunday was more of the same: breakfast without incident, lunch and snacks and dinner, and only very minimal queasiness, but that was it! And today, Monday, has been more of the same; very minimal queasiness from time to time, but no nausea and no vomiting. I think we turned the corner, folks! Lucky number 13!

Other week 13 highlights—

• I’ve started "showing" a bit. There is the slightest pooch that I have to work really hard to suck in during the day, but all that work is futile after 5pm. By 9pm I either look like I’m pregnant, or like I have a parasite.
• Because of aforementioned “pooch”, I can no longer button most of my pre-maternity pants. Hello belly bands!
• Fatigue is still my other loyal companion. I haven’t felt that “surge of renewed” energy everyone talks about and dreams about in the 2^nd trimester. I’m hopeful though… hormones seem to be leveling off…
• The baby is the size of a peach this week, and I’m pretty sure I can feel him/her all nestled up over on the right side of my uterus. Who knows, it could be gas, or bowels, but for now, we are choosing to think it's Baby Seliga all comfy and cozy in there : )