I am pregnant.

My already large breasts have grown to the size of two cantaloupes. My nipples look like they have met a tanning bed. I haven’t seen my vagina in weeks, and I have bright blue veins running the length of my body.

Remind me of my beauty. Help me embrace my current shape. Rub my growing belly.

I am pregnant.

The smell of most food repulses me.  The intense taste of spices and flavor additives like garlic, oregano, and onion cause me to gag.

Accept my unspoken apology when I do not eat the meal you have cooked. I want to, but I can’t. It will go down and come up. The nicest gesture you can extend is to ask what else I would like.

I am pregnant.

My moods fluctuate often and in an instant. Christmas music makes me cry. Q-tips in the toilet cause me to unravel in rage.

Don’t judge my emotions and reactions to things. Don’t ask me “What’s your problem?” Understand the sane part of who I am is hidden under my rising hormone levels.

I am pregnant.

My belly is round and quite large. My lungs are compressed by the inside human that continues to grow. At night I toss and turn. During the day, typical tasks like mopping a floor or scrubbing a tub take extra time.

Rub my back, do the dishes, or place an extra blanket on my side of the bed. Tell me it is okay to just relax… and mean it. Ask me what you can do to help and do what I ask. The smallest, meaningful gestures make me love you more and allow me to accept the limitations of my current body.

I am pregnant.

One day I will give birth. I will labor in pain and demonstrate strength of steel. I will stay focused and will search deep to successfully deliver our child safely to this world. Afterwards I will suffer silently. I will be sore. I will physically hurt. I will need rest with no time to spare for myself.

Let me sleep. Take care of me. Take care of our children. Temporarily carry the burden so I can recover.  Appease my unreasonable requests. Be my superman. Our family will need you.

I am pregnant.

What do you wish you could tell your partner about being pregnant?

I found out I was pregnant on a lazy summer day in August, and things started out really well. My husband and I were excited. We had logical discussions about everything from our financial situation to painting the nursery. Then… I completely lost it. I feel badly for my husband, who is now living with a crazy person. A few examples:

I cry all the time. Over everything (a.k.a. nothing). One night, we couldn’t agree on a restaurant for dinner. He wanted Mexican, and I wanted a delicious sandwich from a restaurant three hours away. When I couldn’t come up with a compromise, I did the logical thing and burst into tears. Duh. Also, I now cry over romantic comedies. Sickening.

I obsess constantly over my symptoms, or lack thereof. If my nausea eases up for a day, I start obsessively googling “pregnancy complications” and read every single sad and scary story possible. One day, I swerved down the street frantically groping myself because my boobs had stopped hurting. Luckily, everything is fine.

I’d been dying to tell everyone about my pregnancy, but now that we’re finally telling, I’m all nervous and weird. Seriously, I’ve been blurting it in the most inappropriate manner. “Hey grandma, will you please pass the salt, and by the way I’m totally knocked up!”

At night, I prance around with my shirt raised to show off my “bloat bump.” I even force my husband to look at it and talk to the baby. I know it’s not a real baby bump yet, because I’m always skinny again in the morning. But a girl can pretend, right?

My food habits are a little freaky. I got an intense craving for sushi a couple weeks ago, and my husband was happy to oblige. Of course, I had to order the California roll. When my husband’s delicious looking sushi arrived at the table, I immediately began stabbing out the chunks of raw fish with my chopsticks so I could eat his. Furthermore, I dry heave every time I open the refrigerator. One day, I ate pasta with (pasteurized) feta cheese and sundried tomatoes; I spent the next two weeks gagging every time I thought about it. It’s no wonder I cry when forced to choose a restaurant.

Unfortunately, I have this sneaking suspicion that I might just get much, much crazier between now and my due date in April. If you find yourself biting off your husband’s head over dirty dishes in the sink or his inability to recycle an empty milk carton (à la the photo above), don’t worry. You’re not alone.

What crazy things have you been experiencing now that you’re pregnant?