My Thoughts & Emotions: 9 weeks (ish)

I'm finding this 1st trimester much different emotionally than I had expected. Having fantasized about being pregnant for that last 7 months or so, I had a preconceived idea of how I thought I would feel and act.

How I thought I'd feel & act:

• Be over-the-moon with excitement, fully consuming every second of my thoughts.
  
• Be bursting inside to tell people, and probably let the news out WAY too early.
  
• Be quite content with the state of my house - except for the nursery - and be bursting with energy & adreneline to get that job done.


• Be slumped over the toilet every morning.


• Couldn't wait to go out and start shopping for all the cute maternity clothes I used to admire through store windows.


• Be craving Hagan Daaz every night.


• I'd dream about Warren & I being parents and living in awe of this amazing person we had created.

How I have actually been feeling & acting:

• My excitement is guarded, with a small voice telling me not to get to excited yet - lots could still go wrong.
  
• I'm amazed at the eaze with which I can keep the secret from the vast majority of my friends, co-workers and extended family.


• The list of things I feel are MANDATORY to have done in our house before Christmas is frighfully impossible to accomplish, with zero energy or motivation to start.
  
• I have not thrown up once, not even close.


• I'm dreading growing out of my clothes and shopping for new ones. Partly the money, and partly I worry I will become horrendensly ugly in the later stages of pregnancy and NOTHING will look even remotely presentable on me.
  
• I've surprisingly been drawn to relatively nutritious and low-fat foods, except for french fries and the occasional chocolate bar.
  
• My thoughts have mostly been focused on worry. Will Warren regret this new life? Will I? How will Warren's long hours affect me emotionally? Will I resent him? Will he be understanding of how hard my new job is? Will I beat myself up if breastfeeding doesn't work out? What if our baby is 'difficult'? What if I can't keep the house clean, and people keep poping by and then think I'm a terrible mom for raising a baby in a house full of dirty dishes left on the dining room table, laundry on the floor, and dried toothpaste in the sink basin?

I often reassure myself that all these thoughts are normal, and every one survives the reality of raising kids. But it's important to me to document this, and to do it in the most honest way possible. I want to look back and think "oh ya, I remember those feelings. And now look, every thing is great".