part I: the beginning (and the end of me labeling these posts as "parts")

I realize that nobody, absolutely nobody, really wants to read someone else's detailed pregnancy diary. Especially on a blog where it's labeled in "parts." That's like being on a 1,000 mile road trip and passing a sign every few miles that says "990 miles left....970 miles left....960 miles left."

No. No thank you.

This is the only pregnancy post I'm going to write, but I feel like I have to leave it on my blog somewhere because for years I emo-blogged about completely insignificant stuff... And this is the most significant thing that's ever happened to me. So I better blog it, ya know?

So, when I found out I was pregnant, Houston was in the throes of finishing his last semester. He would often come to bed at 2 or 3 in the morning because of a big project he was working on, plus he was a TA for a few classes. Houston had accepted a job in Arizona, so I was job-hunting there. Loots of changes happening at once.

I took six pregnancy tests before I told Houston because I was in heavy denial. For someone who really wanted a baby, my subconscious sure was like, "Uhhh, no, you do not want this. But what if??? Nah. Unless????"

Right at the beginning of week 5, my pregnancy app informed me that I might begin to feel "morning sickness." It also reminded me that the term "morning sickness" is a farce most likely invented by men because it doesn't come close to describing the actual thing. And yes, it was a thing. The Thing. An alien monster chasing Kurt Russell around some snowdrifts, except one hundred times worse because it was real.

I've never been hungover, but apparently, that's what morning sickness is like. As a joke to keep myself sane, I began to keep track of all the "novel" places I threw up (places besides my bathroom):

1. In the left turn lane on Scottsdale Road on the way home from work during rush hour traffic (technically, I was in the car and I puked in a bag, but I had to pull over in the middle of the road because I couldn't get off the road fast enough).
2. Behind a church in downtown Phoenix, Arizona. I'm pretty sure the janitor or someone saw me barfing. After the first or second time doing this in public, you start to shed all sense of shame. You're just like "Yep. I'm doing this. There's puke in my hair and I'm doing this."
3. In a gas station parking lot in Marble Canyon, AZ. This one is funny because Marble Canyon is a popular spot for river rafting, and there was a huge group convened in this particular parking lot when I lost all the red Gatorade I'd just drank. In the flowerbeds, no less. I took a picture and sent it to my best friend saying "All of these people just saw me throw up." Smiley face?

1. In the Target parking lot, after which I ran inside to get like 5 bottles of Tums. Of course, when I got to that aisle, there were a bunch of people congregated right in front of the antacids. I remember the nausea-induced rage I felt then, but I forgive those people now. They didn't know. Actually, I miss them. I wonder what they're doing now. I wonder if I'll run into them at Target again. Maybe I'll hug them if I see them next????? CORONAVIRUS IS MAKING ME INSANE
2. Outside a pizza place. I did not quite make it far enough away from the people who were eating outside and a girl walking by said matter-of-factly, "I think you drank too much." 

So, after nine straight months of vomit hell, I managed to birth the most beautiful baby I've ever laid eyes on. The birth story was nothing like I'd imagined and I don't need to re-tell it here, but just know, anybody who says the words "JUST WAIT" when you complain about being pregnant....is truly dumb. Babies are hard, yes, but 1,000,000 times easier to deal with than being pregnant. Amen. And Amen.

hello from the void

The girl writing this has spit-up on her shoulder and funky creases under her eyes (they've been there since teenagehood, but they've gotten deeper in the last year).

The messy bun atop her head is always there now; the only thing variance is its position (a little to the left or right) and the color of scrunchie holding it together.

I guess we've been in quarantine...er...indoors for about a month now. When I say "quarantine" I just imagine Matt Damon sitting behind a glass wall for a few days in the movie Contagion (of course it is one of the top 10 movies on every streaming service right now).

After spending a few days (I'm guessing it was a couple of weeks, but the movie makes it seem faster) behind glass and making sad faces at his daughter on the other side, the doctors announce he's immune and can go home. But chaos still ensues everywhere else. People are looting grocery stores (that's kind of happening now?), his daughter's prom is canceled, an anti-vaxxer tries to sell people on an herbal remedy by faking sick, and people are getting buried in mass graves. About a year or so later, Jennifer Ehle (Elizabeth Bennett, of course!) figures out a vaccine, but to get it, people have to enter a lottery. Please let that not be what happens this time.

Anywho, all this virus talk bums me out. Just like you, I scroll through social media every day and hear more bad news about it. Of course, good deeds and hope shine through, but most of the time, the bad stuff seems to only leave a tiny sliver for that light to slip through.

If anything, this virus has reminded me of how important people are. Even though we don't live close to family, I still miss the possibility of being able to visit them. And I don't have many friends in Arizona, but the few I have, well, waving to them from far away just isn't the same.

This is the only droopy post I'm gonna write about the coronavirus. I'm all for keeping it real, but some days (most days) I need a respite. I need somewhere to forget about it for a while, and maybe you do, too. Just assume that everyone around you is a little scared right now and treat them with extra kindness and compassion. If there's anything we need more of right now, it's that. And toilet paper.