There's no other way to start a pregnancy blog other than by stating that I am incredibly thrilled, scared, gassy, exhausted, and over the mutha freakin' moon to be carrying this little bundle of joy in my little bundle of uterus.
That said, let's go a smidge back in time so that we're all caught up, shall we?
I'm Taylor... that's me, 31 years ago on the right. My husband is Adam... that's him, 35 years ago on the left. We've been a happily married couple for two years, and we were a happily unmarried couple for nine years before our wedding day. In March we decided to start trying. A big part of why we waited so long to begin was (is) because I'm obese. Ugh, I hate the word obese. Though it's clinically correct it sounds so... well, clinical. Let's go with Plus-Size, shall we? Agreed. I'm Plus-Size, and I really wanted to rock a healthy BMI for at least a year before my body went through a change that is sure to suck all the youth and vigor from my loins. But one day it dawned on me. This calorie counting shame spiral I live in could go on forever, but my fertility has a shelf life. I'd also read a lot of scientific bull that said overweight women have a harder time conceiving than normal weight women. That might be true for some, but my big ole butt got preggers right away - as in two weeks after I stopped taking the pill.
Unfortunately (or fortunately, depending on how you look at it), that pregnancy practically ended before it began. Without even making it to the first ultrasound I miscarried. As far as miscarriages go, it was the best miscarriage ever! (This is me trying to find humor amongst the devastation of having a miscarriage... how am I doin'?). I was pregnant for a whole five days before I was sitting in my doctor's office getting the "It's very common" speech. We waited, tried again, and in June the magic began.
|A special slide from the beginning-of-the-year Faculty Jeopardy Game at the school where I teach!|
Today I am 13 weeks pregnant. My goal for this blog is to keep friends and family informed, but it's also to keep myself creative. I like to make things (other than babies), and I've recently had some sort of a pre-mommy-hood-exsistential-crisis surrounding my creativity (or lack there of). I don't want to lose the writer, actor, artist, baker side of me just because I'm super busy with breast feeding, bib washing and banana mashing. If anything, my inner artist should multiply, if not for me, but for the baby. So far, the only thing I've only managed to do for the baby is take lots of naps, take lots of vitamins and take lots of trips to the potty.
I feel like this post is super scattered. Is it just me? Does it matter? It's the first post, it's okay. I'm transitioning, right? Stick with me for a few more. I promise I won't let you down.
Here we gooooooo!