of frequent urination, mood swings, fainting, and monster titties...

I found out I was pregnant on June 17th, 2009.

Really it wasn't a shock because for a couple of months we had been doing the "horizontal cha cha" sans birth control of any kind. We had established that we were both okay with that, which is kind of a shock in and of itself. At least for me: in the years between 18 and 27 or so, I could often be heard vehemently proclaiming my lack of desire for children. This is why they tell you not to use that one "never" word, especially not when it comes to yourself.

I have escaped that most-feared of pregnancy symptoms, morning sickness. I'm not yarfing instantly at the merest whiff of a pungent aroma, thank Jebus. A lack of appetite has occasionally plagued me for a few weeks, along with fatigue, quadruple the visits to the bathroom, and the occasional moment of unabashed brattiness. There was a trip to the ER when I fainted one day and had breakthrough bleeding the next, but as far as we can tell things are fine. Really I'm just attempting to stay as positive as possible, even when I feel like lighting someone's face on fire.

As for the naysayers: there very well may be those who think what I'm doing is irresponsible ecologically, or rash and ill-timed considering my financial/insurance status. Maybe they also assume I will do awful shit like leave my baby on top of the car and drive off, or sell it for 2/3 of a pack of cigarettes and a scratch-it ticket, or train it from birth to do Joan Rivers impersonations (I'm pretty sure I'm safe on those first two). I'm not going to be the perfect parent, but I'm also not going to give my kid a fucking complex trying to ensure they live in a constantly controlled, sterilized mock-up of the real world, only to have their distorted vision of the universe come crashing down around them the very moment their ass cracks are dirty and out of mommy's reach.

Besides, I think it's a girl, and I'd put good money on the likelihood of her being a total badass regardless of what life throws at her. And if my instincts are wrong, I will make one fateful promise about my little future-boy-child: he might be a momma's boy, but only with his momma.

I am excited, terrified, confused, overwhelmed with expectation and love. I already feel impatient, but I know my very own little poop-machine will be here to turn everything upside down very soon. I guess I just didn't realize until I met John just how ready I was. All in good time...

For now my man and I are just enjoying this magnificent set of ta-tas and indulging in nearly heinous amounts of sleeping and snacking. Despite the demands of my bladder and the mood-swing-merry-go-round, I am already enjoying the experience of being a mother.

Thanks, little fetus. I'm pretty glad you're (almost) here.