In Praise of the Bella Band.

Let's see, according to the helpful weekly updates I get, the adorable bundle of cells is organizing (go union!), growing cell layers, and getting seriously cozy in Ye Olde Uterine Lining. And you are less than a millimeter long, my adorable blastocyst! Do you know how tiny a millimeter is?? Having nothing to compare it to, being a brand new thing, I guess not. It's very small. And so, you must realize how incredibly ridiculous it is that my pants are too tight. Ridiculous! At this point I am gestating a 4-month gas baby.

Enter the Bella Band, a remarkably simple yet necessary band of stretchy fabric that enables me to leave my top jeans button unbuttoned. OH GLORIOUS FREEDOM. Seriously, this is the best thing about today, the Bella Band.

Not the best thing? Bananas and their disgusting banananess and mushy texture. Gag me. Oh, and the heartburn that I had last night was MOST UNCIVILIZED. I promise to not eat frozen Chicken Tikka Masala any more, just please let me sleep.

The first.

This is the first of a million or more days. A million days of hope, fear, love, happiness, and wonder. This is the day I found out I was pregnant.

But first, last week. I had been running around in the chunky, strappy sandals that are so popular this year, and when I got home from work I realized they were so tight on my normally quite slender feet that the straps had left a mark. And my wedding rings were tight on my finger and the soft, squishy skin on my stomach had risen over my waistband like a tube of refrigerated biscuits when first opened. I was a vision.

Last weekend, I opened up a chicken for roasted and nearly fell over from the sick smell of it. Turns out it had actually gone a bit off but I was so grossed out that I'm having trouble eating poultry at all. All I want are Doritos, much to my dismay. Delicious, salty, crunchy, alarmingly orange Doritos.

It's five days before my period is due but I like peeing on money so I decided to take a pregnancy test just for fun. This is the fifth month of trying to get pregnant, which is just long enough to really get used to seeing that negative test. Imagine my shock when that second line starts forming immediately, like, "Oh lady, you are REALLY pregnant, no need to wait 5 minutes!" Shock quickly turns to giddiness as I quickly go shove something I've just peed on under Chris' nose. Such a magic time.

Of course, I've also got a cold. A cold that I would normally self medicated liberally with Nyquil and hot toddies and instead am treating with a Neti pot, orange juice, and hope. I am a snot factory who wants Doritos and has really awful gas. And I can't sleep. I am truly a vision to behold.

But oh, I'm so happy. I can't wait for every step along the way. I'm barely 4 weeks pregnant according to the nurse at my doctor's office, and my first appointment isn't until closer to 7 weeks, when we can hopefully see the heartbeat on my first ultrasound. 3 weeks seems SO far away, so long to hold off on telling anyone, but I know at some point I will look back on this time and feel like it flew by. I can't wait.