Today marks my 12th week of pregnancy!
Honestly, it's not all that different from last week or the 12 before it.
Oh, wait! There was an exciting development a couple of days ago. After dear wife tricked me into going to Wal-mart (that went something like, Her:"Okay, okay, we wont go to Wal-mart. I'll go to CVS and Food Lion. Get in the car." *I get in car, close door, seatbelt on.* Her: "The good news is, I'm going to be able to get everything I need at one store. The bad news is, we're going to Wal-mart." Me: "Traitor! Liar! Guards! Where are the guards? I wont stand for this!") Yet, there I am. At Wal-mart. So, we're walking through the store, and I'm feeling nauseous, hot and headachey, but then I always feel mildly crappy these days, so it's not really that noteworthy. We check out. We get back to the car and I have to immediately sit down. Not that I was going to help load the stuff anyway after her treasonous actions. The next thing I know I'm vomiting out the side of the car in the Wal-mart parking lot...for like ever. Which, let me tell you, was super fun. People are passing by just trying to load their groceries or toasters or whatever, like whooooooaaa. Please, they've seen worse in the parking lot at Wal-mart.
So, despite everyone saying things start to get better around your 12th week, don't believe them. I've gone this entire pregnancy without vomiting, until 2 days ago. Maybe baby just wanted to sneak one good one in before we left this trimester. After all, next week Baby McCall will go from being an embryo to a full-fledged fetus, and that's kind of a big deal. So, we had to do something to commemorate this milestone. Mama puking in a parking lot seems like something to remember alright.
In other news, I'm still emotional. But, what's eating me is that I'm really anxious. Normally, I'm a pretty laid back, California strollin', kinda gal. Lately though, it can't be helped since every morning I wake up from some intense dream that freaks me out. They range from seeing my deceased grandmother cry inconsolably to having sex with Russell Brand and seeing his very blue neon sperm (I'll spare you the details of that one). Chicken or egg? No doubt I've got a lot of angst swimming (no pun intended) around that just comes out in the dream world. I feel anxious A LOT. Last night dear wife wanted to run to the store for something which sent me into a tizzy, because undoubtedly if she's away from me for 20 minutes not at work something bad is going to happen to her. I laid in bed trying to sleep but just rolling around neurotically. Miraculously, she returned from CVS unscathed. There is a God.
Today, I caught the tail end of that Prop 8 documentary on HBO "The Case Against 8"...or something like that. Well, by the end I was a blubbering fool. A state which I've grown accustomed to being in in the last 12 weeks. Let me tell you, snotty tears are not a good look on me. I look like a wet, runny, Rudolph in a night gown with uncombed hair. Yes, that good. At any rate, pulling myself together, I realized something. After campaigning against Prop 8, I was devastated when it passed. Seriously distraught. Today, I'm married to my same-sex partner with a baby on the way. I am beyond fortunate to have lived in a time when I watched history change. Not only did it change, it directly effected my life. The anniversary of the Mississippi Freedom Summer has reminded me that every bit of privilege and personal rights I enjoy were won on the backs of folks who went before me and did without them. In considering that, I feel so extremely blessed. What else could account for having the luck (and that's all it is) to be born in a time when I can literally do whatever I want, other than some kind of divine favor bestowed upon me? I never believed in coincidence. I have to thank the ancestors for fighting through all of that hardship so that I could enjoy the fruits of their labor today. The only possible way to do justice to all this good fortune is to practice gratitude daily. Starting now.
I've decided to use this clarity to combat my anxiety. I mean, really, what could a girl as lucky as me have to worry about?
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