I'm sorry, what? I can't eat hot dogs on the 4th of July...or any random Thursday? I can't have spicy tuna sushi or drink coffee, either?!
WHAT IS THIS?
I suppose these small sacrifices are worth it for the sweet little life that is forming inside me. To be honest, though - I'm still not 100% convinced the squirming baby-shaped figure I see on the giant TV in my doctor's office is actually in my body.
It's almost like there's a recorded tape they play to show you, to elicit a reaction from you. I mean, sure - I'm feeling symptoms of pregnancy - I can't brush my teeth without retching, do NOT put raw meat in front of me without expecting me to scream in terror, post-nasal drip is out of control, and I cry watching House Hunters. And, my belly is becoming rounder and harder - but I've always been sensitive, not super fond of raw meat and allergies have always plagued me to some degree. And, as for the belly? I've had similar to reactions to a week's worth of pizza and pasta indulging.
However, you cannot tell me that everyone's baby-shaped figure throws her/his hands up in dramatic disgust and annoyance at the ultrasound tech trying to wake her/him up, and then turns her/his back to us, in the cutest display of spite I've ever seen.
THAT IS MY CHILD. Yep. That's when I knew.
I'm also obsessed with knowing whether we'll have a girl or a boy. I'm literally counting down the days until we can find out next month. I've Googled every quiz, tried every old wives' tale and thoroughly examined the last ultrasound after hearing about the Nub Theory. I won't tell you what I think she is, but I can tell you I won't be upset or disappointed in the least if I'm wrong. It actually might be the only time in my life that I wouldn't care being wrong. I'm just an impatient person who likes surprises...to a point. I don't know how people wait until the baby arrives to know.
I'm guessing it's 9 months of temporary insanity.