10 Weeks

I had to add the “and one day” because it made me sound like Jud Fry.
“and two bits, AND two bits!”

It’s a terrible picture by all means, and at the same time: it’s also art. because it tells the truth. I’ll look back at this picture in a few years and remember that when I was ten weeks pregnant, there were days I was too sick to do my hair. There were days that I let my daughter paint my nails. There were days the last thing I was worried about was good posture. There were days where I was completely oblivious to the fact that my children had hung a horse via mini bungee cord to my print off of Ben Franklin’s 13 virtues. In a few years, I’ll look back and remember my life as it really was. There’s too much credit given to posed pictures.
Okay, that’s not true. Posed pictures deserve a lot of credit. Just ask awkward family photos.

In any case, I’ve spent the past two days feeling sick and seriously tired. I know the cure is food, but how can I make food when the thought of it makes me sicker? What’s more: how can I make food in a kitchen where there’s no counter space because the dishes need done?
I decided to take the family out to dinner last night. The local pizza place would be open, and if we ate there I wouldn’t have to cook or clean up. And then something amazing happened: my mom called. My parents took me and my daughter out to dinner, where I behaved terribly and Mom was terribly nice about it.
She paid for my dinner. I ordered a medium pizza and cheese sticks. I ate two pieces of pizza and two breadsticks, but I looked at my mom’s salad and wanted it. I really wanted it. I knew it would be the rudest thing in the world to order one for myself.
“Hey, thanks for dinner. I ate what I wanted and now I’m walking all over you to get to something else. Tee hee!”
No, I told myself.
No salad.
No leafy greens. No shredded mozzarella topping. No fresh sliced mushrooms… no tomato… no olive…
“Mom,” I confessed, “I know you raised me better than this, and I hope you can forgive me but I’m going to get myself a salad.”
She insisted on paying for it, and I felt terrible (like I said) about it all. But if there’s anything my mother taught me, it was always LISTEN and DO what she says. I learned years ago not to argue with Mom… especially if Dad was around. Isn’t that the way it should be anyway? I know if my husband catches my kids arguing with me, he puts a stop to it immediately and I stand there thinking, ‘Why do they listen so well to HIM? What am I? Chopped liver?’ But that’s the way it is with Dads. I can’t be too upset because I know I acted the same way as a kid.

I then proceeded to eat the salad.
I went home filled to the brim and it felt wonderful. For the first time in ages, I slept all night! One plague of this pregnancy is I’ve been waking up in the middle of the night with nausea… the strong kind of nausea that wakes you up and keeps you up. But last night? I SLEPT. No nausea. I dreamed about one of my former classmates dressed up as a giant monkey, running around the high school campus through the sprinklers while the rest of the crowd at the high school was trying to stop the sewer from overflowing… but no nausea.
I owe that to my parents. The no nausea, not the monkey-and-sewer dream.
And the last two days have also brought something very special with them: tears. I’ve been outright sobbing for NO good reason. I’ll lie down to rest on my bed and end up sobbing. I’ll put a movie on that isn’t sad in the least and end up bawling.

The tears are just a physical representation of something this pregnancy has done that no other has before… it makes me feel EVERYTHING so very deeply. My husband and I have a running joke about movie kisses. If a movie kiss is really good, I can literally FEEL tingles in the palms of my hands.
“Did you feel it in your hands?” He’ll ask, every time a hero and heroine chance to lip-smack.
Well, last night I watched a movie about an Amish girl who finds out she’s adopted -that is, not TRULY Amish -and I bawled through the whole thing and my hands tingled so much they hurt and there was hardly any kissing involved.
Darndest thing.

The farther I get into this pregnancy the more I’m convinced that I’m growing Captain America… for realsies. And I can honestly say. I can HONESTLY say: I felt the baby move for the first time yesterday. At ten weeks and two bits.
Isn’t that remarkable?
I can also say for certain that the spirit that goes along with this baby is STRONG. It’s almost overpowering. I feel like I really need to get my life in order before this baby gets here, so that when it does I can be better set up to teach it. I need to get better about my scripture reading, my prayers, my… everything.
This baby, the one that’s eating and growing and making me crazy will definitely be someone worth meeting. I can wait though. I can definitely wait, at least until the kids’ room is set up to accommodate a new little person.

I can wait.
Talk to me again in 6 months, and I’ll be singing a different tune.


  1. I understand the tingly thing, believe it or not. It’s rather odd. I’ve never expressed this to my husband before though.
    I have a theory on the strongness of spirit aspect of your post. That’s the way I felt with my first and – lo & behold – it was true. She’s a spiritual giant. Amazing things are going to (and have already) come from this child. But, in the same token, I’m rather certain I’d have felt the same way about my second, had I had the time to think and feel things, had I not conceived with my 1st was 7 months old; had I not a 15 month old weeks before I delivered. Just a thought. I think if we give them the time and attention, all babies will manifest something wonderful to us. … Not to belittle your thoughts about your baby at all. I bet Captain America (s)he will be indeed, certainly a person to know a person who WILL be known. :)

  2. Bring on the captain underpants! :) I’m so excited for you to have this little one!

  3. “Poor Jud is Deed” is my favorite song in the whole movie. I have almost all the verses memorized and I like to bust it out at the worst possible times.

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