Sleeping Like a Baby

I sleep like a baby these days.  I wake up every two hours crying and demanding food.  Right now, for added fun, I'm battling sinus headaches.  Usually the act of chewing will help clear things up for a bit.  So, not only does food quiet my stomach, it also helps my head.  Usually.  Tonight is bad.  Tonight I wonder how much one little decongestant can hurt.  I mean, really.  But no.  If I give in now, by the end of my pregnancy I'll be washing down my vicodin with Jack Daniels after smoking a pack of Camels, filters removed.  Then I'll really sleep.

Being pregnant is more or less what I expected, save for the crazy hunger.  I have no tolerance for pain and am pretty much a Nance, so I never could see myself as one of them gals that "glows" and has a cute little tummy.  Nope, to hear and see me when I wake up you'd think I was about to birth the baby tomorrow.  I come staggering into work looking like I had a bit too much fun the night before.  I run through a catalog of foodstuffs in my mind trying to figure out what sounds least repulsive.  Even eggs, which have slightly less flavor than white bread, frequently make my stomach turn.

I keep trying to remind myself that it's all worth it.  I'm sure I'll come around.  Once I hear the heartbeat and see the first blobby images on the ultrasound will reinforce that yes, this is due to a little one growing inside me.  Right now I don't feel pregnant.  I don't feel moving.  I'm not showing.  It's still a little abstract.  And someday when I have an elbow in my ribcage and foot on my bladder I'll wax nostalgic for these days.  I guess I just need to appreciate where I am.