8 Weeks, 4 Days.Ultrasound is 9 days away!
We’re very excited to see our baby soon, can’t wait to show the grandma’s and grandpa’s and uncles and aunts and 3rd cousins twice removed and strangers on the streets outside the obstetrician’s office.
We’re very proud parents, as you can gather.
There were a few days here and there where I thought I might die (as you may recall from my last post), but I mostly thought I was going to have a pretty easy pregnancy.
Well, no such luck. Still struggling to eat, although I learned last night that, as long as I make real meals with lots of protein and yummies I can eat a pretty decent amount. The man made TVP burritos for us with all the fixin’s and I managed to eat two! That’s the problem with not eating appropriately. Now that I’m starving myself frequently, Once I get real food in my belly, I start to need TONS of it right away! So I was ravenous for the rest of the night, which I guess isn’t an awful thing. Except for the part where I ate enough that I started to feel sick again.
I find that the crazy, emotional pregnant lady isn’t quite what I anticipated. Yes, the hormones are everywhere and there are some days where I can’t get enough of my man and then there are others where I don’t even want him to look at me. And I do tend to get a little more passionate about things than usual, but if I’m upset or sad or whatever it’s not SOLELY because of the hormones, they’re just feeding off that original emotion making it more intense.
The other day I was so happy that I cried over a sandwich. Okay, that’s a bit of an exaggeration. The story goes, Nikki was sad and sick and not able to cook anything. Eric was sad that Nikki was sad. Eric brings Nikki a sandwich and says “I just want my babies to be happy!” Nikki cries endlessly.
Yep, that’s the father of my child.
I’m a very lucky woman to have so much support from so many different angles.
As you may know, financially, Eric and I are struggling slightly. He’s working part time at WalMart and they are forever cutting his hours. I am on medical leave from a job that I will now not be able to return to at all. I’ve gotten a series of interviews for a cosmetics job, but I don’t know what to expect.
Fortunately, last week I visited my mother, the lovely woman that raised me. Towards the end of my visit, we started talking and I started crying. I talked to her about how we’re struggling and once our savings are dried up (which will be happening very soon) we won’t be able to afford all of our bills and groceries with just Eric’s income. My mother reiterated that both she and my father will always be around to help as much as they can, but it did little to console me. I’m not going to live on my own if I need to rely on my mother or father to pay my rent!
She offered us, quite generously, my old room back. Eric and I have only been living together for 4 months (see, pregnancy happens when left to your own devices!) I have mixed feelings about the prospect of living back with my mother. I miss my mother every day. When I found out I was pregnant I was devastated that I wasn’t closer to my family. At the same time, I enjoy having my own space, I like living an adult life with my lovely boyfriend and our pets. I also know that we will end up in poverty very quickly if we are forced to rely on Eric’s income. So, with that said, we may be moving, very soon, if I don’t get this job. With any luck, we’ll be on our feet by the time the baby comes. Eric is looking into getting a better job every chance he gets and I am hoping that, while still pregnant and able-bodied, I’ll be able to get another job to at least build us a savings. I’m sure things will work out, but I never expected to be 21, unmarried, pregnant, and living with mom.