First Timester

How am I? I'm holding up. Gulp. It could be loads worse. I'm in the threshold of my first trimester. As I enter the jaws of a new and exciting chapter of my life, I enter willingly.

Exhaustion has consumed my reality. I've succumbed to the powers of napping and drooling on the couch. As I sit at my desk at work, the vile sandman doses my afternoons with a longing for a peaceful snooze. Napster that's me. Mrs. Narcoleptic Kitchen. I am as active as a sloth on parade. I bid my workout regiment sweet adieu. Gone are my days of vim. I bid boxing final farewell sweet friend. Sniffle. The only action my body is getting is wiping the drool from my chin or the usual cookie lift of right arm to mouth. I have surrendered to what my body wants, but gosh darn it when will it cease? Mothers say there's light at the end of the first trimester tunnel. Eck! I'll believe it when I feel it.

My appetite has taken a downward spiral as I have a new found disgust for food that I once degusted. For instance, as I tried to enjoy my slow roasted chicken the texture of the crispy skin and the smell of the poultry just about sent me to porcelain paradise. My gusto for Swiss chard and kale is all in the past. The rich scent of Laudemio olive oil is no longer heavenly. I'm afraid what a drizzle of truffle oil will do to my gag reflexes. I still enjoy my time preparing a fine meal in the kitchen, I no longer have the appetite to taste it. On the polar opposite, my waistline and my belly is blooming like the foil lid of a jiffy pop. Water gain, bloating, boob sensitivity, all in the game of pregnancy. Lord have mercy someone prick me with a pin, because this here whale needs a break. Despite my ill appetite, I have found solace in a piece of godiva dark chocolate or oatmeal chocolate chip cookie. Great! What I once tolerated, I no longer can say 'no' to.

Shellie's Proverb: Pregnancy is temporary, parenthood is forever.

As for the cursed nausea, I am on my toes anticipating the day it's wretched claws digs into my placid being. Per my Chinese acupuncturist and my homeopathy homicidal tendencies, I have been warding off my nausea like a hoodoo voodoo santeria by drinking loads of fresh ginger root in hot water. It works for the most part, but I can still feel the sea sickness gradually seeping it's way into the dark side. It's mostly dormant, but not often as I would like. Perhaps my reasoning behind my naps of luxury is to avoid being ill with vomiting.

Essentially, I am very excited to have a growing 'it' in my belly. It's a wonderful and exhilarating feeling, to know that one day this tiny raisin of a human will be telling me to piss off nineteen years from now. Welcome to pregnancy.

Lesson: A wise grasshopper must understand that one's future can not be controlled, but one can curb his weight.