Monday, August 09, 2004

A Little Pregnancy Talk

I can think of no other time, other than pregnancy, when a woman stares at her stomach every night, hoping that it's a little bit bigger. I'm still really small. For one thing, although I haven't weighed myself, I am guessing that I have lost eight to ten pounds, just from the puking and loss of appetite. Great diet, this pregnancy business.

I am poochier. There is definite poochage going on. But I am in no way showing. I guess I'm just antsy. Not to wear maternity clothes or any of that--frankly I can't even think about it yet. I think it's just that for the past eleven gestational weeks, the only sign that I am actually "with child" has been nausea and slightly bigger boobs. I am officially ready for something a little more substantial. My next ultrasound (at fourteen weeks, holy cow) is this Thursday.

Another thing that is alluding me is the desire to purchase baby items. Two years ago, before we were even trying, back when I had my rose-colored "baby glasses" on, it was all I could do to keep from buying an entire nursery. Baby things were such a novelty to me. But's just not there. Don't get me wrong. I am glad to be pregnant. Sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night to pee and think, "There's somebody inside me." It's a strange, yet pleasant, feeling. But I've got no drive to buy baby stuff yet. Also, two years ago, I wanted all shiny, brand-new stuff. A new white crib, a nursery full of Fisher Price toys and brand new Baby Gap onesies with the tags on. But the other day, I wandered into the Baby Gap, sort of feeling a maternal obligation in some consumer-driven way, and picked up a few items. I almost fell over. $17.50 for a sleeper?! I did a slow backwards walk right back outta there, ala "The Birds." So long, Baby Gap, see ya around clearance sale time.

I did manage go to a few garage sales on Saturday. But until you know the sex of your baby, it's kind of pointless. I've discovered that people, at least in Arkansas, dress their daughters in pink and their boys in blue. Period. You don't find many little yellow Carters numbers out there in Garage Sale Land. I bought some blue onesies and sleepers, figuring blue could be unisex, and took them home and washed them. My sister came over so I showed her my "finds." "Well, those will work if you have a boy," she said. "Girls can wear blue...can't they?" I asked. Karen scoffed. "Not baby girls." I guess I must have looked fairly confused because she shook her head and muttered something about my poor children having a fashion impaired mother.

Karen and I have also argued about the color of the future nursery. I really don't feel like painting it over, and it's a nice light bluish-purple right now. "You can't put a boy in a purple room!!!" Karen wailed. So apparently I am doomed to have a gender-confused child, no matter what the sex.


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