My First Trimester: The Twisted Side

        You've heard me rave about the joys of pregnancy.  Now is probably the chance for me to rant about what went behind the scenes during my first trimester. *LOL*  Don't get me wrong! I am in a state of bliss...no matter what.  But when one is really at the mercy of her hormones, by all means, dock! I just discovered a talent for doing a perfect portrayal of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde.

        Once upon a time, there lived a pleasant and serene lady who carefully chose the words she uttered and smiled her way through storms.  Until one night...BAM!!! She, for a teeny weeny reason, got upset at her clueless hubby, hit and shook their Honda Accord with both hands, yelled and screamed and held the clueless man by his collar, deformed his shirt neckline and ripped his necklace apart.  Hubby could only freeze and whimper to this incredible hulk of a wifey, "Why? What did I do?"  (My Al truly deserves an award for putting up with this, y'know!)  Thank goodness that sinister incident happened only once and hopefully will never happen again (the missus has been exorcised, I guess!)  I can only look back to that moment and cringe at a horrid mental image of myself transforming into a monster with red eyes, green skin and wiry hair suddenly sprouting about. 

        The rest of the first three months of my nesting period  was fortunately more peaceful than that.  Ofcourse! What can you expect from a perpetually groggy and forever feeling sick person, helplessly trying to let the day pass locked inside the bedroom and hoping to bury the nausea under the comforters, to no avail. 

        First of all, I have unwillingly evolved into a sniffing german shepherd, with what Aldred christened as my supersonic smell.  Believe it or not, I could tell what the whole neighborhood's cooking, maybe five houses or more down the road! Now, that would have been pleasant and joyful for me as the aroma of food have always delighted me since my Gerber days.  But lo and behold, the smell of anything being cooked, especially sauteed garlic, was suddenly revolting to my senses. Picture this: 60 million pairs of nostrils all over your body while smelling a gazillion odor particles, one unit of which already makes you puke to no end.  Ergo, my formerly hearty appetite took an uninformed leave of absence.  I could not pick a single thing to eat!!! For three whole months, I was in tip-top shape qualified for a career in olympic vomiting.  I wouldn't be surprised if the toilet bowl suddenly decided to get its revenge on me. 

        Thank God, one day at a time, I discovered food that were less threatening to my stomach's spirits (thanks, too, to stabilizing hormones maybe).  I went into phases.  Imagine a whole week of McDonald's filet-o-fish every freaking night...then the McChicken phase (I should name my baby Donald, huh?)...then the mayonnaise phase (dollops of pure mayonnaise on my mouth would bring me to seventh heaven--- am I making you gag yet?)...then the clam chowder soup series.  One time, we had Japanese four days in a row! Recently it was the Kentucky Fried Chicken with a cupful of gravy (what's with all the fastfood, Clarisse?).  There was a time I dreamt of this delicious Letty's Pancit Tikyano twice.  Unfortunately, Aldred will never be able to get if for me and have it shipped from the Philippines at my every whim, unless he gets frustrated enough and decides to ship me back home instead --what a bummer! 

        I also craved for the hella pinoy "jologs" cafeteria style of pasta...DA FAMOUS SPAGHETTCHUP!!!  Oh that sweet anemic looking pale orange spaghetti cooked in yes, banana catsup and adorned with occasional thin coin slices of hotdogs.  I sooo miss that and love that to bits as much as I adore the authentic Italian aldente Spaghetti alla Puttanesca cooked to perfection with the right combination of olives, capers and anchovies.  Oh these gastronomic mood swings! I'm on the italian side of this pasta pendulum these days.  I just had a bowl of the real Italian treat, washed it down with a bottle of Pellegrino natural sparkling water, and got high at the fact that it tasted the way I expected it to, while at the same time prayed hard that I don't waste my lunch moolah by donating my semi-digested food to the immaculate bathroom of Bloomingdale's.

        Well, I'm slowly weaning away from food issues at this point and slowing picking on how I am beginning to look.  The other day, I asked Al "I'm starting to look real ugly, am I?" to which he replied "I never said that." Well, was that a good answer or what. Hahaha.  Last night, I stared at my new pictures on my laptop.  I think my already huge head is swelling even faster than my belly ever could.  My big eyes are popping out like a goldfish immitating Garfield when I'm sleepy, my forehead is slowly doing a version of the 40-60 grit sandpaper and my hair follicles have decided to germinate in places you will never think a girl can grow hair on.  To add pain to injury, my nose is doing an adaptation of a squished garden tomato - the one somebody stepped on (geez, I'm beginning to look like my hubby's ex-girlfriend!!! Is this karma or what? Ooops, sorry about that, for a minute there, I thought that was a bit funny to add...LOL).

        So far, that has been the dark side of the first third of my journey.  I'm the kind of person who has so much ideas and projects for my life, the type of person who wouldn't waste a day without doing something productive with my hands or with my mind. I love to draw, read, paint, cook, organize and clean stuff, write, dance, take photographs, do movie marathons, make creative digital layouts on my PC, and engage in new adventures everyday.  It seemed that time FROZE my life out for three whole months...being utterly unproductive at my darndest best.  But I must admit, life as a useless princess has its perks too, hahaha. Gone were the days when Aldred couldn't even keep up with my cleaning frenzy.  Welcome days when he would kiss me goodbye on the bed before leaving for work only to find me curled up in the exact same position when he comes back home. 

        My life froze indeed.  But for some reason, I am not at all sorry.  I don't regret not having accomplished something from my goal list --- my overdue DMV test, my teacher's credentials/certification in CA, my mom's souvenir program digital layout, a new job, and a lot lot more...For sure, I will find time for them next time.

       Right now, I am letting my life stop, in order to let this new life inside me begin.  This transition time for me is great! Instead of thinking about what I want for myself, I think about the baby and the future.  My books are replaced by pregnancy manuals.  My tv shows now include Discovery Health (where they show a lot of baby specials).  My wish shopping list underwent a major revamp, from Seven and Bebe jeans, shoes and bling-blings to baby stuff such as a car seat, a crib, and other baby gear. Instead of bringing up usual philosophical questions from geeksville, my mind is focused on only one...WILL I EVER BECOME A GOOD MOMMY? I have received some thumbs up compliments among parents in my preschool class as a teacher...but I only worked 8-5!  As a mom, practicing patience, unconditional tolerance, giving love and support 24/7 is a new and different challenge altogether.  I only want one answer.  I want to be good at it.