Yesterday I ventured into uncharted territory. Week Ten. Exciting for several reasons.
1. I am 25% of the way done. 30 more weeks until Raw Tuna, Wine, and Me have a wonderful and joyous reunion. Actually, if Peanut is on schedule (which he probably won't be knowing his father) 29 weeks, 6 days, but I mean who's counting?
2. This is farther than I have even been in my pregnancy. And yes, before you call me and give me a big duh, every day in your pregnancy is farther than you have ever been - kind of like every day you are alive is older than you have ever been, please allow me to explain. I thought I was nine weeks pregnant when I went to the doctor the first tme. But I was only seven weeks. So I had to redo weeks seven, eight, and nine on my weekly pregnant calendar (which by the way does not make me a dork, it makes me a Blackberry user with a lot of time on their hands while at work). Anyways, I had never made it to the mysterious Week Ten until yesterday. And in case you were wondering, Peanut graduates from an embryo to a fetus this week. Watch it, the kid is on a roll. He also begins producing testosterone if, in fact, he is a he - which I think really explains why men act the way they do. They honestly can't help it. All their faults have been with them since Week Ten. No matter if Peanut is of the male or female persuasion, he (or she) has begun producing urine. Which grosses me out to the infinite degree. I mean do I just have a bunch of urine floating around in there? Dis.gust.ing. If I would sit down and read my What to Expect book perhaps they would answer this question - I heard on TV somewhere at some point in my life that Baby Fetus drinks it or something equally as gross but I just can't even stomach that possibility.
3. On a lighter note Week Ten seems to have been the magic number in battling the naseau - I not only brushed my teeth without gagging last night, but also managed to floss. I also have regained most of my energy and feel almost human again. Do not fret though. I have not regained any desire to go to the gym. Perhaps I will make this a permanent change. I have also not regained any type of self control when it comes to the daily intake of worthless calories. I almost ran over an old lady with a walker yesterday in my rush to order my Phillip's Hamburger. For those of you unfortunate enough to not have had one of these let me paint you a picture: hamburger fully dressed, with two (maybe three) kinds of cheeses, ham, maybe bacon, and a whole lotta greasy love. It is amazing. I am still really into the whole apple craze. Had some apple juice and a sliced apple for breakfast. Which because it is a "healthy craving" allows me to spend the rest of my day daydreaming of chicken gyros, bacon cheeseburgers, and maybe even some Rotel cheese fries.
As a parting thought, my increased sense of smell has made me realize something quite embarassing. My feet stink. I apologize to all of you that have had to endure this.
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