it's an epidemic

Well, since the news is flying faster than Harry Potter does while playing Quidditch, it's time for me to step in and tell everyone myself. I've been putting it off because part of me still doesn't believe it (though my growing stomach should be proof enough for me)... and part of is probably in denial because I never considered myself the mother type: Yes, I'm pregnant.

I join the ranks of many couples that I know who either have had babies in the recent months or who are having babies this year. In Houston alone, I am one of eight. In my church, my baby is #4. When all the news was flying around I thought, I'm NOT going to be part of the trend, hearkening back to the days when I took a stand against anything that was a fad... Well, I guess God had other plans, and so my baby (that's really there, I have to keep on reminding myself) is coming at the end of July. It is an epidemic.

We told our families at Christmastime when we went "Down South", because let's face it, those of you who know me know what kind of a lush I am, and I wouldn't be fooling anyone by refusing a glass of wine and saying "I'm on medication." I've been sick as a dog ever since, M hasn't had a week's worth of homecooked meals for about three months, and my immune system has gone to pot so I'm catching every single virus out there.

I'm getting sick and tired of being sick and tired. I guess I've always taken my good health for granted, as well as the ability to go a million miles an hour and get stuff done. So to add to my list, not only am I pregnant and not feeling well, I'm taking a course, working part time, doing another job really part time... and the house hasn't been cleaned in over a week (but I'm not telling my mother that)

Right now I have a fetish for breakfast foods (not necessarily to be eaten at breakfast time, you can't believe how good waffles are for dinner!), for pizza and burritos. Things I absolutely can't stand: the smell of cooked broccoli.

So, here it is, it's finally out. It's really official now that everyone knows. Words give a permanence I'm not ready for, but I won't be able to hide that much longer.

Am I ready to be a mom? Well, I've got six more months to get used to the idea. I know I'm not going to be "the perfect mom" who can do everything and be everywhere and still look good doing it, but I know I'm going to try and play jazz to my stomach as much as I can because I've heard that it can help your baby be good at math. Since I can barely remember how to do grade 7 or 8 math, this kid is going to need a head start.