Maybe I'm just heartless, but I'm glad I'm not that clingy.

I've been on a lot of message boards lately, looking for information and maybe some support. Pregnant with a husband incommunicado in boot camp is not always a breeze to handle. Especially when you absolutely passionately hate every single day you have to go to your job, but are forced to continue out of necessity. The husband is earning an income, but is unable to access it to send me money until after graduation. I've hated my job viscerally for quite a while, but supporting The Hubby so he could quit his job to prepare for and go to boot camp was more important, and I still believe that was the best thing for us to do. At the moment, though, I'm feeling trapped. So I try to find people in either or both of these situations (pregnant, significant other in boot camp), to try and get something in the way of information. It's not an easy feat, and frequently I am more annoyed than anything. The pregnancy sites are *fairly* helpful, but the sites for family members of recruits are a bit of a mixed bag. There is a lot of really good information, but there is also a lot of whining.

I understand, to a point. Parents are going to have a difficult time when their child leaves the nest. Significant others are going to have a difficult time when their loved one goes away. This is all made a lot more difficult by the fact that our recruits don't get a lot of chances to communicate. Nobody should ever, EVER count on getting a damn thing from a recruit in basic training, because expecting things leads to disappointment. I expected NOTHING. The letters I get (and trust me, I've gotten a lot up until the past couple weeks) are the happiest parts of every day that I receive one. The only thing I expected from The Hubby wasn't a letter, or a phone call, or him being able to support me financially or emotionally (or whatever else these people are expecting); all I'm expecting is for him to come home a United States Marine, and I'm even prepared for the worst in that department. In fact, as a spouse I had to write out and sign a statement spelling out exactly what him doing this meant, and that I FULLY UNDERSTAND: He will be unable to support me financially while he is in training. He will most likely be deployed at some point. Basically, this will be extremely difficult for me. (But look at what he is going through!!)

What it all boils down to, no matter how much they say they take care of Marine families, is that Corps and country come first. These men and women made that choice... And Parents, they are in fact men and women, no matter if you still think of them as your "baby." They are not allowed to serve their country until they are legal adults. Some of them may be immature adults, but if they're tough enough they will make the cut and become Marines in the process. And we will be so damn proud of them. (Please replace with Army/Navy/Air Force titles as needed--I'm proud of my recruit, but this applies to ALL branches of the military.)

As I sat in that recruiter's office that day and wrote the short statement acknowledging how difficult the coming months would be, I did fully understand it. I knew it would be tough, but I would make it happen. Whatever it takes to get him, and us, through this. I did not expect to be an exception. Even after we found out I was pregnant. I did not write out the part saying that I alone would be responsible for paying our bills and think to myself, "Yeah, but he'll still be able to send me money because we're married." Even when people kept saying "But he should be able to send you money because you're married." I want to smack those people, because "should" means absolutely shit, and I love it when people remind me that I haven't seen my husband in almost 3 months and that I'm stuck at my job for that much longer. People, please remember that the military is a function of government. I'll believe the check is in the mail when I open the goddamn mailbox and find it there. I don't care if even the recruiter says he should be able to, or if it happened that way for someone else in the same platoon, a different platoon, or a different branch of service. I believe nothing until I see it. So when I see people griping on message boards on how they're in tough times because they--by choice--haven't worked for years and have 3 kids and they're freaking out because they don't have any money because their SO is in boot camp, I feel for them, but then I have to ask myself "What the fuck? How did you think this was going to go?" Maybe I'm a bit cynical, but while I hope that they do in fact take care of Marine families like they say they do, I can't help but think they're not Marines yet. They are recruits. There is a big difference. Not all recruits become Marines. Why would they waste effort on people that might not make it? (Of course your recruit is going to make it, though, so they might as well make that exception, right?)

But my biggest annoyance is the ones who talk about how pitiful they are because they miss their kid or their SO. I can't handle much of the boards dedicated to wives/girlfriends because of this. Some of the parents of recruits from our platoon, although dealing with missing their sons (all males at San Diego), are grown enough to be looking for answers to their questions and being otherwise proactive--organizing meet and greets for family day, organizing fundraisers, sending protein bars to the recruits with notes attached about the website so all the recruits' families can know that support is available. The wives/girlfriends are focusing a lot on how they can't go to the movies or restaurants or participate in whatever activity because that's something they do with their husband/boyfriend. I just want to ask them what they plan on doing in their lives when their recruits become Marines and get deployed for months and months at a time. Life does not stop because he is away. It continues whether you like it or not, and wallowing in self pity doesn't help you or him either one. Show your Marine (or Marine recruit) that you are proud of him, and that you will support him by keeping the home front covered while he can't be there. They're under contract folks, if you don't like the life then you're the one that has to GTFO. He can't, and shouldn't have to because of you. If you just lay the pitiful tales on him all the time, you're just making him miserable when there's nothing he can do about it, and he'll most likely get in trouble for your behavior if you take it too far. This makes you a selfish asshole. In my opinion.

I'm not saying I don't have my bad days. It's actually been getting harder for me the closer I get to him coming home. I miss him, I want to get this all rolling so we can really get somewhere, and I want him to meet The Belly That Holds The Baby. Pregnancy hormones and depression aren't helping, because it seems I've gotten a pretty good dose of them lately. But I hope that I never become like some of those people I come across on those sites. My independence makes me happy, and it makes me better able to handle the separations that will happen. I miss him like crazy, but I'm so proud of him, and he deserves and has my full support. Maybe I am just a cold fish for not balling my eyes out day and night, wailing over letters. But I don't think so. I'm looking at boot camp as training for the both of us.  

All the awesome I haven't been posting about.

Sooooo...

It's been a while since I posted anything. Again. I had high hopes that my blogging would be more regular with the Hubby (my primary distraction!) away. Instead, I have managed to fill that space by remaining in a constant state of "busy," and have completely neglected the blog. In the month and some change since I last posted, I have had just a couple of "free" days, and I have TOTALLY just spent those days vegetating in front of a TV that is constantly playing Friends dvds. I'm not going to lie, after work every night is spent roughly the same way.

Because it's been such a crazy busy time for me and I haven't posted about, well, anything since The Hubby left, I'll just do a quick sum-up of the most important parts.

I went floating on the river for the first time ever. I had an absolute blast! I love being on/in the water, I don't know why I've avoided this every time before when someone has invited me to go. Except then I remembered, because I ended up with a HORRIBLE, excruciating sunburn... on the tops of my feet. Everything else was fine, I had applied and reapplied SPF 100 sunblock all damn day, but somehow the tops of my goddamned feet were murdered. I swear I applied it there too! I was lucky enough to be off work the next day, so I spent the whole day tottering around the house like Frankenstein's monster anytime I simply could not put off getting up off the couch any longer. My feet were so burned they were hugely swollen, and bending my ankles was NOT an option. It was a painful, miserable week and a half before I could walk comfortably. Or wear properly laced and tied shoes.

The trip with my friends was to Gulf Shores, Alabama, and it was an absolutely perfect beach getaway.

It may have rained most of the time, but there was enough rain-free space each day for some valuable beach time. The rest of the time was awesome for just spending time with my girls! Plus, I was sunblocked up again, despite the constant cloud cover... no burn for me!

I finally got over the morning sickness, and have finally started gaining some weight (though not much yet, trust me I'm working on it!), only to experience one of the OTHER symptoms of pregnancy nobody talks about honestly... Hemorrhoids. I believe they started "popping up" during that gulf coast trip. All that sitting in a vehicle for long periods of time was a killer, and once I got home I discovered exactly why the trip home had been becoming more and more painful. Fortunately it wasn't too bad of a case, despite being painful and uncomfortable. I could manage. Still. Fun stuff.  They're not bothering me much any more, though.

My awesome sister came and stayed with me for 2 whole weeks! I still had to work and all, but we had such a blast together. I loved having her with me! Plus she was there for a BIG pregnancy milestone...

And sorry, here's where I move from simple summary to the big release of info.

My first ultrasound! They of course made sure everything was fine with Baby G, and yep, everything is just fine. Perfectly healthy! :-)  (Note: we have been calling fetus Baby G because it's the initial for our last name--it does not stand for any first name we have picked out! I just did NOT want to refer to it as "peanut" or "bean" or anything else along those lines.) But now we also have a sex to attach to the name...  

IT'S A GIRL! She's BABY GIRL G! 

I'm so excited! No name picked out yet, but even after we do pick one we won't be sharing it until after she's here. If we meet her and her name doesn't fit, we can change it without having to deal with people getting pissed because they wasted money on something being personalized with her name or initials. Plus we don't want to have a bunch of people who aren't raising her trying to have a say in her name. But what matters most right now is that she's perfectly healthy. It was hard getting really good pictures of her in there. I have an anterior placenta (meaning it's attached at the front of the uterine wall), which means there's a lot more tissue in between my belly and Baby G, and the pictures were all a little bit distorted. It's also made it a lot harder for me to feel her moving and kicking until here very recently. I started feeling some of it at that u/s, when I was 19 weeks along, but later that same week I could feel it a little bit stronger. Still not much, though. Then this past week, at 20 weeks, I could feel her a little more, but still not very strong.

Then yesterday? Amazing. I was laying on the couch, not wanting to move because of the heat. When temps are at 100 degrees and above, like they have been the past couple weeks, my window units are having a hard time getting the temperature down in the house. Yesterday the temperature in my living room hovered around 78-80 degrees during the majority of the day. It was even hotter in my dining room/kitchen, where I only have a box fan set up. So I just lounged around on the couch all day. Just as I had finally decided to get up and shower and head over to visit The In-Laws, she just started rolling all up against my belly. She was moving all around in there, and I felt it all. I still couldn't feel it much with my hands, but I could *just* feel the nudges. On the inside, though, it felt so intense and amazing! There was no question she was ready, and strong enough, to make her presence known. I just stayed there on the couch, not moving, not wanting her to stop, grinning like an idiot with happy tears streaming down my face. I so wished The Hubby could have been there, even if he wouldn't have been able to feel much from outside my belly. I felt her a few more times later last night, then when I was trying to go to bed she kept pushing down low, around my cervix. Now THAT was uncomfortable. But I'm glad I can finally feel her little explorations. She's been back at it a few times today with the kicking and rolling around, but she's for the most part kept it at a reasonable location. For the most part. 

Also at this point, I'm counting down the days until I'm able to bring The Hubby home. He's made it through boot camp so far, and I am so damn proud of him. There are still 27 days until his graduation (26 now that it's after midnight and I'm still typing this...), but I know he's going to make it, and he'll be coming home a Marine. A Marine with mad shooting skills, at that--he got the Expert score in shooting, the highest level you can get! I'm one proud wife! I can't wait to see him, and for him to be able to see my ever-expanding belly! I'm proud to be carrying his daughter.

(*awwwwlookatdatinywiddlebabyfootsie!!*)

...Even IF she's using this little foot a bit excessively at times. ;) 

I wish I could be more specific.

One of the things I don't typically talk about regarding my experience of depression is one of the scariest aspects of it. I have no trouble talking about the feelings of emptiness, apathy, irritation, exhaustion, sadness, and anhedonia (where I don't enjoy things I typically do--like spending time with friends and family).

The most nerve-wracking things I experience, though, is a sort of self-destructive tendency. I'm not typically a person who does any physical self-harm. My primary target is more mental and emotional--I'm after my self-worth. I'm after my life. I get these urges to do things that will certainly ruin me, my interests, and/or my relationships. This is the most difficult thing for me to deal with because not only am I during one of these spirals not interested in the things I am usually interested in, but there gets to be a point where I very strongly want to do or say something that will actively destroy the sanctity of it. My thinking gets pretty malicious in these circumstances, and it scares me. If I acted on these impulses, they really could have a serious and negative impact on my life. And sometimes instead of taking an action that will lead to disaster, I want to neglect to take an action, which again would lead to disaster. It's hard to give examples, because it's always something a little different. But mostly because the shame I feel for thinking the way I do during these phases is crippling.

It's one thing when I throw my typical smartass-ery and cynical thinking at things/people/situations I don't like or am irritated by. Usually I am able to balance that stuff out internally, by reminding myself to find the positives, and externally, by keeping my damn mouth shut. But during the depths of depression, it's a lot harder to find balance. The thing is, I still know that whatever it is I'm thinking about is wrong and dangerous and destructive to my health, my sanity, everything. It's just a lot harder for me to work the thoughts and feelings out of my system than it is on a typical non-spirally day, possibly taking weeks instead of a few seconds.

A grand total of ONE time I took this destructive tendency and talked through it with a close, nonjudgmental friend. She was totally supportive and understanding, and just having that outside perspective that wasn't experiencing the distorted thinking I was helped me tremendously. This is one of the primary reasons I think counseling could be very helpful for me. The majority of times I have had a typical, everyday problem, the anxiety over the problem disappeared and my idea of a solution appeared as soon as the issue was bounced off of someone else. The one time I shared with someone my thoughts/impulses while in a destructive-mode, it cleared itself up within a couple of days. All it ever takes is for someone from an outside perspective to see or hear what I'm heading towards, and it's over. It knocks it out of my system. It's like once I say it out loud I can hear how ridiculous or destructive the impulse is, and my head clears. Unfortunately, I don't typically feel safe talking about these things, because either I worry that they wouldn't seem like as big of a deal to whomever I'm talking it out with or that it would be viewed as devastating, catastrophic, and would ruin their opinion of me. There is no in-between. And I worry that I wouldn't be able to get across how much I fully understand how horrible and destructive this impulse could be. But with a neutral other party (such as a counselor), there is no feeling of judgment.

Gee, I wish this was an option for me at this point. Instead, I've been dealing with the emotional strain of being in the middle of one of these self-destructive phases by myself. Again. Luckily, I'm coming out the other side of it now. All it took was a little reminder of the person I actually am, versus the person depression makes me feel like I am.

Please look out for your friends and loved ones when they're on the verge of doing something stupid, or seem like they're out of sorts. Even if they don't tell you exactly what's going on, sometimes just that reminder that they're not acting like themselves at that moment could be exactly what they need to move out of it.

Today? A good day.

The past couple of days have been kind of hazy. After my post the other night I've been pretty drained. After I got off of work last night I went home and proceeded to be bored out of my mind and totally uninterested in watching TV, reading, blogging, internet site-hopping, cleaning--pretty much any of my normal activities. And yes, I am that boring. Work has been so-so the past couple of days, so there wasn't anything in particular occupying my mind, either. I went to bed early, even though I still wasn't able to get to sleep any earlier. (2-3 A.M. has been the earliest I can get to sleep for a while now, no matter what time I go to bed or how tired I am.) Today, though, I had a game plan. We recently opened a new bank account, so last week I switched my paycheck to direct deposit to the new account. Unfortunately, this meant that my check this week was coming in the mail. I was very much needing for it to arrive today, so I went to the post office (we don't have a mail box here--no mail carrier) under the assumption that it would be there.

And it was! A victory for the postal service, my employer (no angry phone calls), and my need to eat and pay bills. Also in the mail was my first letter from The Hubby. I was (and still am) so excited! I thought about just going back home at that point and ripping it open, but I knew that if I did that my butt wasn't leaving the house again. I desperately needed to deposit that check and go get a few groceries, so I just set it next to me and continued on my way. Every stop sign and stop light had me thinking about opening it, but still I resisted. For safety, y'all. I made it all the way to Walmart before I couldn't wait anymore. I opened it up right there in the parking lot, read it 3 times, carefully folded it up and put it in my purse (apparently I didn't want to be separated from this tiny point of contact), and got out of the car cheesing like a maniac, because all is well with The Hubby. I smiled all the way through the store. Luckily for those around me, it did soften into a smaller smile rather than the crazy grin it started off as, so I didn't get any more "looks." I just appeared a little more friendly than usual. They didn't have to know that the letter song from Blue's Clues was running through my head. (Also, if you happened to click that link, I hope that it gets stuck in your head for all of eternity, and that you were only *mildly* traumatized by the, um, altered ending.)

Just to top the day off, after shopping and picking up something to eat, something else made me smile as I was driving through town. I watched as a bird gracefully swooped over traffic, dropped down a couple feet, and shit on the windshield of the car in front of me. It was beautiful.

Today has been marvelous. Now I'm going to go take it down a few pegs by cleaning. Or pretending to, anyway.

Crap.

I promise that not all future posts will not be pregnancy-related, or after baby is born all kid-related. This one in particular I'm not even sure what to classify as...

I've been blaming a lot of crap lately on being pregnant. I'm in my 13th week, and I guess fatigue is still typically a problem at this point. Quite a few things I've read say that my energy level should be picking back up soon, with the end of the first trimester. I guess technically week 14 is the start of the second trimester, and the "easiest," more fun part of pregnancy. That's what everything (and just about everyONE) says, anyway. I'm sure it will start getting better, but right now I'm miserable.

The reason I'm not sure how to classify this post is because I feel like I'm getting really bad. I feel myself spiraling down, and I'm not sure what's going on. I'm starting to worry about it. It started really hitting me this week: the insomnia, the constant need to sleep but never feeling rested when I do, the bizarre dreams, the irritability, the lack of interest in anything or anyone, wanting to quit everything. And let's face it, folks, I don't really do much right now anyway. My entire life is work, and trying to sleep. I have a few things I'm looking forward to *tremendously*, though. A trip with my friends is happening in a few weeks, within a week or two I'll get a letter from The Hubby (then I can start sending him the numerous letters I've already written...), soon I'll be finding out the sex of the baby, and then there's traveling to The Hubby's graduation and being able to spend a few days with him. But with each of these happiness-inducing events I seem to counter it with a negative, and that was an "indicator."

At some point I'll be quitting my job, which I'm very much looking forward to. The excitement I feel at that prospect is another one of my little "indicators." Mostly because the "excitement" is not necessarily sprouting from happiness at the idea of languishing towards the end of pregnancy and maybe being a stay-at-home mother but is instead the product of negativity--I'm wanting out of this job. It's not really a bad job, and theoretically with the job description change some of the pressure is supposed to be coming off of my shoulders. In theory, I should be enjoying my job more, because what it's becoming is more in line with what I like doing there... being out on the floor helping out, talking to people, solving problems. Instead, it seems nothing is making me happy right now. I'm not liking dealing with people at all right now, I'm not caring about their issues, I'm constantly irritated--bordering on outright angry.

I've been thinking it's just from the fatigue and job stress, and that maybe it's just a pregnancy thing, but I'm worried that the pregnancy thing (mainly the hormones) is evolving into a full-blown depression thing. Which I do NOT want or need right now. In fact, this was one of the things The Hubby mentioned being concerned about before he left. He specifically said he didn't want my job setting me off into one of my "spiral things." The fact that he used the same term I do (spiral) shows that he pays more attention than I think sometimes, and that he knows what my triggers can be. It made me love him even more. Especially since I know he was most concerned because he saw me heading toward it already, and knew he wouldn't be here when I hit the bottom.

Oh God, I think I've just hit the bottom. I'm crying as I type this.

I'm worried (obviously). I wanted more than anything for this pregnancy to be happy and healthy, not plagued by depression and stress. I don't even know what to do right now. I am absolutely falling apart, right at this moment, and feeling like unlike the past times I've hit the bottom there is nothing I can do to change things.  I can't quit my job, because I won't be able to pay bills. I can't wish this pregnancy a year into the future, and I think I wouldn't want to even if I could. I can't change the fact that so much of The Hubby's future in the military is a question mark at this point, until he gets through basic training and finds out what MOS he'll be going into. I can't change the fact that I feel so isolated right now, because I don't want to be a burden to any-damn-body. I can't change the fact that that issue right there has been one of the things that kept me battling depression on my own for so long. I have never wanted someone I cared about to look at me and my issues as "yet another thing" to worry about or take care off. (For some reason I picture an eyeroll accompanying that "yet another thing"... Wonder why?)

I think I'm going to go to bed, and try to keep reminding myself that depression lies. Because it does, even when it's whispering those vicious little barbs that sound so right, and it sounds so sad about it. Depression doesn't want your life to be worthless or helpless, it just is, and what a shame. But when you listen closely, you can hear that smug, condescending tone the demons of depression use, and you can slowly start to remember that those thoughts were wrong last time, and that you did in fact make it through and experience happiness again. You'll (...I'll) make it through this time, too. It just sucks for a little while.

Hm. I think I've figured out how to classify this post.

On pregnancy and the need to slap people.

Pregnancy has not been a walk in the park for me, but I'll live. Almost immediately after peeing on a stick and it saying "Come on, really? You're going to act like you don't already know?", the vomiting started. And continued constantly. I was so dehydrated from the constant throwing up and inability to eat anything that I had to sit in the waiting room at the health department for another half hour downing a bottle and a half of water before I was able to pee a tiny bit in a cup so they could confirm what I had known in the back of my head for a few weeks. Something just felt different. Even though many of the symptoms of MWW were present, they were a little off. Funny how most of the MWW symptoms are the same as pregnancy symptoms, eh? A little cramping, fatigue, sore boobs, skin issues, bloating... Only the main event of MWW never started.

I was super excited. Well, as excited as possible what with all the hurling going on. Whether I have anything in my stomach or not doesn't matter, because it seems I have a lifetime supply of stomach acid to throw up. (Pretty sure I'm going to end up with the heartburn symptoms later because of that.) Within a weekend I had lost about 4 lbs, and I have continued to lose weight since then. Absolutely nothing worked. I tried eating crackers, eating crackers before getting out of bed, eating this or that, avoiding this or that, getting out of bed slowly, acting casual while getting out of bed to see if I could trick my body into forgetting it's supposed to be throwing up, sleeping in every position to see if that would help, eating some peanut butter before bed so my stomach wouldn't be empty in the morning, etc. For every person that suggested I eat some saltines? Fuck you. You should be slapped. You don't even have to be pregnant to have heard that helpful little tidbit, you moron, you honestly think that wasn't the first goddamn thing I tried? And if it's been weeks of sickness, do you really think you're the first person to make that totally original suggestion? The ones smilingly saying "I don't know what to tell you, I had absolutely zero problems during pregnancy, my pregnancies were so easy and perfect and all rainbows and happiness that the sun practically shone out of my vagina," are also unhelpful and deserving of slaps to the face. "Well, bully for you, Bitch!", is all I want to say. But I digress.

All in all I have lost about 10-12 pounds, and have never looked forward to gaining weight so much in my life. That will mean that baby is growing healthy and that I'm able to eat again. I've only just gotten to where occasionally I can eat before I go to work. I'm not sick every day now, as of last week it was about half and half. And although I was totally miserable for the first few weeks, my apparently amazing willpower meant the only porcelain god I prayed to was the one in my own home. No getting sick at work (couldn't do it, because then everyone would know and I'm not really wanting to deal with that), no getting sick out in public, no getting sick when visiting the families, no having to pull over to the side of the road to grace the grass with my stomach acid. It wasn't until my second prenatal appointment, where we got to hear the heartbeat, that I threw up somewhere outside of my own home. I have been keeping a trashcan in my car for a while now, and it got put to good use that morning. And my car is my second home, so I'm going to say that doesn't count either.

Then there was the time I threw up in the trashcan in our kitchen, because The Hubby was in the bathroom. Unfortunately, the trashcan contained some used kitty litter from when he had cleaned out the litter box, as well as the empty, fume-y can of Scotch Guard since we had just gotten new living room furniture, and various other chemicals from the housework that had gone on the day before. All that was inhaled as I gasped for breath between heaves. Worst. Experience. Ever. My throat burned, I was shaky as hell, and I was terrified that I had seriously fucked up my chances of having a normal kid. Or remembering what a door is. The jury's still out on the whole "normal kid" thing, I guess. Although any child released from my womb is already at risk of being a bit odd, so we may never know.

Another infuriating symptom is that my skin exploded. (Figuratively. Sort of.) Acne like I have never known before has plagued me incessantly since this whole shebang kicked off. Granted, I've never had the best of skin, but I've never been this broke out all over before. It's awful, and I hate it.

Then there's the fatigue. This paired with the "morning" sickness means all I do is work, sleep, and vomit. I've been a night owl for a while, and the shift I work definitely doesn't help, but I can't imagine trying to work days right now and having to deal with the nausea and vomiting. I have always been someone who had to eat before going to work, and I haven't been able to for a few weeks now. I'm not even hungry then. I only take snack stuff to work, because the idea of an actual "lunch break" is a joke for me. By the time I get off work I'm starving, so I eat, but I'm exhausted, so then I sleep. The past couple of weeks, though, have been different. I'd been staying up later to spend time with The Hubby before he left. And now I'm staying up later after he's gone in order to take care of the things that he had been taking care of during the day while I was at work. Laundry, dishes, cleaning, grocery shopping, etc. All taking place after 9-ish PM now. Still, it's so hard for me to get up early, because that just means more vomiting and fatigue and longer awake-time without being able to eat.

I'm hoping that now I'm starting in the second trimester of all this fun-ness I'll be able to start experiencing less of these pesky symptoms. Really I just want to be able to eat regularly again, so the nurse won't say to me again at my next appointment "You've lost some weight again... Are you sure you don't want us to prescribe you anything so you stop getting sick?" The thing is, right around the time baby showed up in the picture I had just started to cut way back on my soda habit, and my job description changed so that I was thankfully able to be up on my feet a lot more at work rather than sitting in front of a computer screen. And we weren't buying as much junk food, because The Hubby was having to watch his weight and stay healthy too. That, paired with the nausea/vomiting and work schedule that restricted my ability to eat was going to lead to some weight loss. Although I have to admit 10 pounds in a couple of weeks is maybe a bit excessive.

I really want to make it through this without having to take any kind of medication (except the prenatal vitamins, of course). I hate taking medicine anyway, but I really feel like even though it sucks the nausea isn't bad enough or debilitating enough to warrant medication. If it was seriously interfering with work, maybe, but again, I have yet to actually throw up at work, and I don't think I'm going to. It seems to be on the down swing now, so hopefully it'll start to fade and I can start chowing down like a pregnant woman's meant to.

Big day.

Today was the day. I dropped The Hubby off with his recruiter, to be transported to a hotel so that tomorrow they can fly him to San Diego. Such a relatively short plane trip (compared to how long it would take to drive the distance...) takes him so far away from me, in so many ways. The next time I see him, he'll be a Marine. The next time he sees me, I'll look like I'm smuggling a bowling ball in my shirt, since I'll be over halfway through this pregnancy and all. Gotta make sure my hair looks DAMN good! Seriously though, I'm feeling so many different emotions right now. Naturally. Hormones aren't helping, and *gee golly bonkers* are they ever kicking in here lately!

Example.

The other day The Hubby was looking the title for his car, because he's hoping it can get sold while he's gone. The plan is to use the proceeds to go towards an engine for the car he wants to be his daily driver. It's his (current) dream car, and he's got it ready to go except for that pesky engine. So the title search began. We looked and looked and couldn't find it. I got frustrated, because *clearly* this was my fault. *I* must have misplaced it. It was the only explanation. Then I got more frustrated, having to abandon the search to puke my guts out for a minute. Ah, pregnancy. I come out of the bathroom, The Hubby has apparently abandoned the search and is watching TV. I plop down on the couch, promptly knocking the laptop off the arm of the couch and onto the floor. My reaction? Stare in shocked silence for a moment as Hubby gets up and picks the computer up off the floor (I'm too stunned to move), then I suddenly burst into tears. An explosion of tears. Hubby comforts me, and tries to figure out what's wrong (in my head: "What do you mean 'WHAT'S WRONG????'"). He tries to shush me, oh-so-helpfully begs me to calm down... I head towards the bathroom to wipe my face and blow my nose. He hugs me, and I say "I'm just horrible! The title is missing, *clearly* it's my fault [I may have been a bit sarcastic at that point, sue me.], and then I practically destroy our lap top!" Sobbing all the way through this pitiful rant. Finally, I get cleaned up, calm down, and sit back down with The Hubby. After a few minutes he turns to me and lovingly says "I found the car title." First I started crying again. Then I started laughing.

He smiles. "Do you think your moodiness hormones are finally kicking in? You just went from vomiting, to Hulk-smashing the laptop, to crying hysterically, then crying some more, and now you have the giggles. All in 10 minutes." I couldn't help it, I started laughing again.

He was totally right. It was ridiculous. We've still been joking about me being careful not to Hulk-smash anything... He's worried about the TV while he's gone. Just imagine. A cat vomits on the floor, I destroy all our electronics. I stub my toe, the trashcan goes through the kitchen window. I hate to say it's a distinct possibility, but there you go.

There was more I meant to share, but it'll have to wait for another post. Since my main distraction is on his way to boot camp, I'm sure I'll be posting more often. For now, though, I'm tired. Big day and all.