Week 7

We finally got to break the big news to my side of the family this weekend. Since we live so far away from ALL our family, my only chance to get to tell someone in person was to drive 90 miles to see my mother and I was determined to do that. We had plans to have lunch together in Charlottesville last Thursday and then the inevitable happened - I got picked to serve on a jury for a murder trial. Isn't that always the way when you have big plans?

So Paul and I drove down late Friday night and presented her with what she thought was an early mother's day gift but was actually a positive pregnancy test gift-wrapped in a jewelry box. She cried. It was worth driving 90 miles for.

The next morning we got on the phone and started calling everyone else. We're obviously trying to keep it pretty close until after the first trimester but I'm sure half the eastern seaboard knows at this point, including a large contingent of neighbors and retail employees who couldn't care less. Good news travels fast!

All week I've been feeling fairly oogey but it's nothing unbearable. Certain foods are clearly out of the question now, burritos chief among them. I'll spare you more details about that.

Hair of the dog doesn't work in this situation.

I think I finally feel like a woman in the first trimester - like I'm going to barf. I've noticed that smells seem a little stronger lately. For instance this morning on the way to work, the train station had that burning hair Metro smell. I don't know what this smell is, but I notice it every once in a while when I'm taking the train - it's just this very strong smell of something that is not at all nice. It's like one of the commuters is burning a pile of hair, or barbecuing squirrels or something. On my best days, I smell this smell and make a face. Today I smelled the smell and I thought, "I am going to yak all over this platform if I don't get the hell out of here pronto."

This smell is actually worse than the burning nuts smell you get in New York sometimes from the street vendors, and I thought that was bad. On the random disgusting urban smell-o-meter, the Metro station burning hair smell trumps all.

And I'm tired. I could go to sleep right now and not wake up until noon, no problem. Yesterday after lunch I actually took a nap in the media library at the office. I've literally never seen anyone go in there so I thought I was safe. I guess I'd been there maybe 20 minutes when I scared the life out of some random intern who walked in to discover me in the dark with my head on the table. Maybe, given his age, he'll assume I was hungover.

Actually this falling asleep in the middle of the day thing does remind me of my early twenties. I was living in Chicago, going out dancing and drinking all the time. The concept of having to get to bed at a decent hour meant nothing to me, plus I had friends who all worked as waitresses and bartenders, so they were total night owls and even though I worked days I tried to keep up with them, getting my groove on till way past midnight on nights before I had to work. Then the next day I'd be so out of it I'd try to snag a quick nap in the file room or the stall in the ladies room. You haven't had sleep until you've slept with your head on a toilet paper dispenser, people! So restful.