I’m eight weeks along and Baby Bihl is the size of a kidney bean.
I have a bump that appeared early on in the pregnancy. It seems impossibly large to house such a small human. I wasn’t sure if it was the nightly indulgences of Davey’s macaroni and cheese or my uterus was making room for its new guest, because it appeared almost immediately.
I’m enjoying the myriad of symptoms early pregnancy brings including fatigue, nausea, the occasional headache, constant hunger and fatigue. The couch and I have become very well acquainted. I almost feel obligated to name it. And as unpleasant as I may feel, I take some comfort in feeling crappy in these early weeks.
I take advantage of every infrequent opportunity I feel normal, like taking short walks, cleaning the house or venturing out into the world. Davey has been a gracious husband and a champ, picking up extra chores and preparing home-cooked meals at home. And cooking for me has been no small task. My appetite has changed dramatically and I can’t stop talking about food. Davey will begin a conversation that is invariably redirected to what we’ll be eating in the near future. He said he’s going to start his own blog called “what my pregnant wife is eating now”.
Last night, I woke up at 2:00 in the morning with a sore throat and a slight cough. Being hormonal and dramatic at such a late hour, I feared I might die of the flu. And what if I’m not well enough by Thursday, my next ultrasound? Irrational thoughts continued to race through my mind until I finally calmed myself down. And then I realized I was nauseous. And hungry. I reached over and grabbed the bag of pretzels on my nightstand.
I can’t believe how ridiculously loud the crunching was. I could feel Davey stirring and then his body began to shake. He was laughing! The thunderous sound of chomping pretzels actually roused him from slumber. So we both lie there, our bodies convulsing in laughter, until we finally fell back asleep.