I’ve never felt particularly sorry for picky eaters. In truth they often confuse me. Being the kind of person who will happily eat almost anything I am served, I never understood being picky. Sure, there are a few things I don’t like… primarily licorice-flavored things and cheesecake (a dislike I could probably overcome, but refuse to. It’s so bad for you, why should I try it again only to find I now adore it?) But as much as I do really appreciate a nice expensive gourmet meal, I also have no problems with mac and cheese in a box, or boiled hotdogs in slices of bread instead of buns. Give me something I’ve never even heard of and I’m thrilled to try it. Give me something I used to dislike and I’ll gladly give it another chance (unless it’s cheesecake, of course). It seems incredibly weird to me that people might not like entire swaths of flavors like “mushrooms” or “onions” or “cheese.”

Being culinarily adventurous is part of my self image. So uh, what’s the deal with suddenly being a horribly picky eater? I mean, I know what the deal is. I have a proto-human growing inside me making hormones go haywire. But it never even occurred to me that I’d be a picky eater! I knew I’d have weird cravings (actually, to be completely honest, I thought I’d be getting a well balanced diet with every possible nutrient I’d need and I wouldn’t have much in the way of cravings). I didn’t think I’d develop incredibly strong dislikes for totally normal things like chicken, or inexplicably positive feelings towards potatoes.

But here I sit, with a bowl full of spanish rice and sausage (quite the experience 3 days ago!), wishing it were spaghetti with olive oil and garlic. And I’m beginning to understand and sympathize with those people who just plain old don’t like something.

And yes, I still want avocados and sardines on toast.

I don’t even LIKE liver! Whyyyyy would I want liver and onions? It’s got to be because I know I can’t eat liver right now and my body has decided that means it must be the best thing evar! Just like I should be eating chicken and can therefore not abide it.

On the plus side, saltines are sorta almost starting to help my stomach and I’ve figured out a pretty tasty ginger tea (hint: an entire bottle of honey). And I’m finally beginning to feel excited instead of just overwhelmed and exhausted and sick all the time! Maybe the second trimester will hit as hard as the first did, and in a month or two I’ll be on top of everything! That will be so awesome :).

Who knew it was possible to be both so nauseated and so hungry at the same time?

Despite my drooping eyelids, I’m staying up for as much of the first presidential election of 2012 as I can. It’s not like I don’t know how I’m planning to vote, but I’m still looking forward to seeing a man I deeply respect fence with a man who rather frightens me. I want my children to grow up in a world where they feel safe.

Here we go!

I am beginning to wonder if that serenity which exemplifies the happy pregnant woman is, in reality, a simple matter of being too tired to kick up much of a fuss about anything.

Franklin has started thinking I’m angry far more often than I am actually angry. My fuse might be a tiny bit shorter than normal. But I know that lack of sleep and not feeling well are both things that shorten my fuse, and I have both in abundance right now. I think that the joy and excitement equalize the nausea and exhaustion, though. I don’t feel particularly angry. Or anything but tired now that I think of it.

I think he’s misinterpreting because he just isn’t used to low-energy beth. Everything I say sounds sullen in comparison to my normal self. Not sullen, mind, only sullen in comparison to my usual effusiveness.

Speaking of sleepy. Time to go to bed! I am starting to tire of all these miscarriage nightmares though. Do those o away in the second trimester too, or do he just get replaced with some new thing? I can’t wait to find out.

So, the feeling that I was pregnant went away. I was sure I wasn’t. I took like 4 tests. And then I had a couple drinks on Thursday. I found out Friday that the “pregnancy tests” that I’d bought and been using almost every day (since it was $8 for a pack of 25) turned out to be ovulation tests.. they sent me the wrong thing! Of COURSE they were showing up as negative. I wrote a rather nasty letter, and expect a new set of tests, an apology, and a “we’re so sorry please keep the items we sent you.” Although, last night I used one anyway and it showed positive. After some research, I discovered that this means one of the following things:

1. I am ovulating
2. I am pregnant
3. absolutely nothing

Oh I forgot to mention what makes all this so scary! I didn’t get my period this morning as I was expecting to. And then I took a drugstore variety (as opposed to the doctor’s office variety, which is what I bought online) test and it was… frustratingly inconclusive! The barest hint of a “pregnant” line, which depending on who you talk to means:

1. I am probably not pregnant
2. I am almost certainly pregnant
3. I am going to have a miscarriage

So yeah. I’m gonna go with pregnant until I have some definitive signs in either direction. I plan to take the second test on Monday morning, and set up an appointment with the doctor for a blood test either way.

Also to talk about the absolutely terrifying thing, which is really hard to even bring up: If I’m pregnant now, that means I was pregnant on Thursday when I had a few glasses of wine. And that means I am a terrible human being, and guaranteed to either miscarry or have a FAS child, and then the whole world will know of my shame. Great. Part of me does not believe this, since there are plenty of women with healthy babies that had a couple drinks before they knew. Right? Right??

Not exactly the way I meant to start this whole adventure :(. I’ll be upset no matter which way this turns out. Last night I had so many dreams about pregnancy. I dreamt I was, that my sister was, that all my female friends were. And if I am? I’ll spend the next 9 months scared out of my wits that I’ve hurt my child. And if I’m not? Back to waiting and hoping and getting older. I suppose if I’m not, I’ll have a bunch of free ovulation tests…

The last few months have grown long indeed, with no signs of and triumph in the mama-realm. I’ve continued to push myself through school. I finally had enough of the stress at my last job and found a calmer and far less intense job that nonetheless stretches my brain. F and I have struggled through some tough financial decisions and made our peace (mostly) with Fee’s kidney problems and eventual decline. We discovered Sarah has insulinoma (this is very very bad) and are still working on finding a similar peace. In the mean time, she will be going in for some major, and rather dangerous, surgery on Wednesday. More on all of these things later, I think. Because I’m here to talk about something else very weird that’s going on.

There’s no way I can know this. There’s no way I have any kind of scientific backup. But I’m pretty sure I’m pregnant. I’m not going to know for another week and a half at least, but the night before last I started cramping uncharacteristically early. And yesterday all day I had low-level cramping and a strange feeling in my abdomen, some nausea, and most inexplicable.. I just feel it. I just FEEL like I am. It’s electrical through my whole body. I am trying to justify that feeling with a bunch of things. Cramps this bad usually don’t happen until a few hours before my period. Not that they are bad, just that they are unseasonable. And I’m not experiencing any of the other period or pre-period symptoms.  The timing is right. Am I hungry more than usual? Is it just hope that makes me tingle?

But there’s no way to know for sure yet, and wishful thinking has gotten me into trouble before. I can’t get pregnant by simply wanting it enough. So I’m not mentioning it to anyone yet. If it turns out I’m wrong, the dreadful silence of this blog will continue. How embarrassing to name a thing after a future event that turns out to be far less certain than I thought.

It’s gonna be a long couple weeks.