Confirmation

So what my body's been telling me for a few weeks now has been technologically confirmed. I am pregnant. About seven weeks and one day, medically speaking. Turns out pregnancy is not 40 weeks long but 38 (with of course the standard deviations amongst some). The first two weeks of the seven are two weeks before, well... you know. Why do they do it this way? I don't know. Doctor knows best. I'll go with that adage for now.

Anyway, so I submitted to the horrible ultrasound, promising myself that it would be the only one of this type for this pregnancy. But now the doctor wants me to do a follow-up one in two weeks because there is a hematoma in there alongside the uterus. I saw it on the screen. It looks like twins but it's probably not, unfortunately. I want twins.

My body lately is like a game show. If I feel tired/nauseous/all of the above then my body gives me the skill tesing question: What are you going to do about it? I run through all the possible answers in my mind. Carrot? Apple? Nothing? Lie down face first with my butt in the air? Tuna sandwich? I've learned through trial and error (mostly error) that it's best for me to get a head start on eating before I get hungry. Because hunger comes with nausea and nausea confuses me. Do I want to eat? Do I not? If I get the right answer then I feel better. Move forward to the next level. If I get the wrong answer then it's time for revolt. This may include discomfort, exhaustion, or, twice now, gagging and sort-of throwing up. I say sort-of because both times it happened, it was just a shallow kind of burpy barf with some gagging. The first was Friday evening, thankfully before any guests showed up. All that emerged was some yellow intestinal fluids... bile, perhaps? The second time was tonight and it was in response to half a tomato I'd just ingested. Let's just say it didn't get far in the digestive process. You cal THAT an answer? Says my body.

On the other hand, sometimes I know beyond a shadow of a doubt what it is I need/want. I'd call it a craving. I guess in this case it is a craving but in the cases above it's more like a calling, but I don't know from where. I was driving to work this morning with the radio on and the announcer was going on about sufganyot. How he loves them. How he tries them from every single bakery he can find, with every filling you can imagine. Well, I had a hankering for something all through my half-day workday, but I couldn't put my finger on what, exactly. And then it hit me: I had to have a jelly doughnut. Had to. Had to. Had to. Fortunately, it's jelly doughnut season around here, as the announcer pointed out. In the last month they've been 'popping up like mushrooms after the rain" as he said it (though around here snails are far more predominant after the rain than mushrooms. Maybe it's a matter of location.)

I took a detour home via a road that I was pretty sure had a bakery, but they must have closed down. I know a couple of other places that have them right near the kindergarten where I was headed, but getting there with the car was too complicated and I had only limited time. In the end it hit me: there's a 'condituria' at the end of my street. That means some kind of a bakery with cakes but not breads. Anyhoo, so I parked the car, bought my overpriced jelly doughnut, which isn't as good, by the way, as some of the less-fancy jelly doughnuts I've had, but it did hit the spot. Then I devoured it in the two minutes it took me to walk to the gate of the gan.

There was another incident today. I was feeling kind of squeamish and bleh, and my mind was going through the options. When I came upon the answer, I knew it was so right that it motivated me to jump right out from under all six of the blankets I was hiding under and run to the kitchen: A tuna sandwich! On TOAST. YES! With PICKLES! YES! And TOMATO! YES! I started putting it together and had a sip of water to keep me going, which totally ruined my appetite. Water and I have a very funny relationship when it comes to nausea. I finished making the sandwich and ate it all anyway, just because I could. In otherwords, because my body was not completely repulsed by it at that time and because I knew, logically, that I hat to eat something even if my stomach is having a dispute with my water. I even enjoyed it. But it was apparently not enough. I had to go out then and by the time I got back some two and a half hours later, I had to eat again NOW, but eating wasn't on the schedule at the moment, especially the particular food I was hoping to eat (fried rice with peas). That's when I ate the tomato. That's what made me throw up. Sort-of.