Okay, So I'm Not the Mother of God, But...

Wow. It's been an extremely long time since I've written anything. I actually have a reason this time! In the past couple of months I have:

1. Quit my job.
2. Moved.
3. Begun renovating a 90 year-old house.
4. Got knocked up.

That's right, folks. Ol' fun, drinking, smoking Cari is out the window. I am 10 weeks and 5 days along in this little "miracle" called "creating life."

And, now for the honesty that we have all come to know and love about me:

This sucks. It's really hard. I feel sick. I feel insane.

I have already read four books about pregnancy. The only one that even came CLOSE to describing what I've been feeling is a book called "Belly Laughs" by Jenny McCarthy. Yes, I can relate to a former Playboy Playmate better than a doctor.

Here are a list of things "they," meaning EVERYONE IN THE WHOLE WORLD, don't tell you before you get pregnant:

1. Not every woman is ecstatic by the sight of her positive pregnancy test. In fact, I think that I screamed, "This CANNOT be right! Are you fucking kidding me?" A wave of slight excitement came later. It was slight. We weren't trying. We weren't NOT trying (nice double negative). But, I had been painting a 90 year-old house with the windows closed, stripping a fireplace, smoking and losing weight for the past two weeks...not to mention I had more than a couple drinks at Mayfest. Not really the "ideal" time to get pregnant. (Fortunately, I was later told that latex paint is okay, and I immediately quit smoking the instant I found out.)

2. You will be filled with a rage unlike any you've ever felt from about Week 6 to about....oh, I don't even know when that will stop. It is not a constant rage. But, it is a dangerous one. Annoyed is not the word. Infuriated is. Hormones are evil, evil little things. I wouldn't wish a bad hormonal imbalance on my worst enemy. My poor, poor husband. We have made a pact that there will be no "unprovoked conversation" any time soon on his part. The other night, his breathing annoyed me so badly that I had to leave the room.

3. You will have feelings about your husband that are irrational, senseless, cruel, mean and absolutely ridiculous, and you will have no control over it. You will literally think, "I can't stand you. Get the hell away from me. Wait, that's not how I feel. But, it is. I hate him. But, I don't! I love him the MOST! But, I DO! GET AWAY and NEVER TOUCH ME AGAIN! But, wait...don't leave me. Don't leave me here alone...but, seriously...FUCKING get OUT of my FACE!"

You will. You will have those thoughts, and you will cry long and hard about them until you can finally look back on these early weeks and laugh. NOT fun, my friends. NOT FUN.

4. The whole "don't touch me" thing lasts longer than anyone should ever have to deal with. It sucks.

5. Apathetic is the only word I can find to describe how I feel about this pregnancy. I'm trying to be extremely honest here, because no one was with me. I felt complete and total apathy until about 2 days ago...a slight sense of attachment came, but it was only slight. At one point of rage/Crazy Bitch/Cari-the-Crier/freak out-mode, I actually said these words, and I repeat them now so that any woman who ever goes through this knows she's not alone:

"I don't care about this anymore. I want it to go back to the way it was. I want a fucking beer and a cigarette and to not feel sick and to want to have sex and for all of this to go away."

This statement was then followed by waves of guilt. But, you know what? It's how I felt, and I am soooo tired of reading things written by pregnant women that say, "Oh, it's a glorious time! I can't believe how anyone would complain about any of it! It's such a gift! The nausea can be a pain, but it gets better!" Uh, people? It's a bit different than that, mmmkay?

I never felt like this was a glorious time even once. I'm sure I will someday. But, as of now, I'd like to stab some people, throw some things, feel absolutely wonderful again for just ONE day, not gain weight without my consent, be able to make it through one day without crying and not want to throw up if I even see the word barbecue. (I craved barbecue for two weeks straight. I would have fantasies about drinking an entire bottle of barbecue sauce. I hated barbecue before this. I hate it again. See? How can you be rational about pregnancy when THIS shit happens?)

6. You will have such intense cravings for certain foods that you honestly might revert back to childhood fits if you don't get what you want. This weekend I required TWO trips to a baked potato bar. Two. I literally had to leave my home in 100+ degree weather to get baked potatoes on TWO separate occasions. It was ridiculous and so, SO good. I slathered them with butter, sour cream and melty cheese. God, I could eat another one right now.

7. No one will talk to you about anything besides being pregnant, the baby, things they're going to buy for the baby, how often they want to see the baby, where they're going to take the baby, and "how you're feeling" if they know of the pregnancy. If I had known this fact, I would've waited until 38 weeks to tell some people. I could just explain away the stomach with a malnutrition lie or something like that. But, honestly...your brain is not interesting anymore. Only the tiny, kumquat-sized being inside of you (that you haven't even emotionally connected with, mind you) is important now. Only that. Please don't try to talk to anyone about world events or the recent article you read in the New Yorker. They don't care. They only care about the baby. Now, here's the weird part:

Even though you haven't emotionally connected with the baby, you are still extremely protective, not unlike a mother bear, when people try to tell you how they're going to spend time with the baby or what the baby will wear, or what the baby will sleep in, or how the baby will be birthed, etc. That is when all maternal instinct kicks in, and you smile politely, but INSIDE, you're thinking,

"I will fucking kill you if you think for ONE SECOND you have ANY SAY in how this baby will be RAISED, what it will DO, how it will SLEEP, what it will be NAMED, how long you can watch it, etc. You have to run it by me to even BREATHE by this baby. This is MY baby. This is my HUSBAND'S baby. Touch my baby OR my belly without asking and it will be your last move on this Earth."

These thoughts made/make me smile because I was starting to feel guilty about the apathy. Nice to know that I would kill someone if they got too "handsy."

8. I'm really making this out to sound really wonderful, huh? Did I mention the tiredness? No?

9. Your energy will be that of a sloth. A sloth that is trying its hardest to make the simple movement of reaching for a leaf. And, yet...it cannot.

10. Some days you will say, "I don't want to talk about the baby." And, that's okay.

11. Don't tell anyone what you're naming the baby (unless you really, really trust them) until it's born. Ever. It's none of their damn business, and in your fragile emotional state, you don't need their disapproving glances. It will just make you sad and turn into the Mama Bear woman that I described above.

12. You will love a certain name for about 3 days and then think, "I can't believe I was ever going to name my child that. That's the dumbest name EVER."

13. You will freak out and wonder if you will lose your entire sense of being due to this little kumquat thing inside of you. You will wonder if you'll ever be "cool" again. You will actually say to your friends, "But, tell me if I'm not being cool, okay? Tell me if I'm turning into one of those moms." They will agree to watch out for tapered jeans with elastic waists that suddenly appear in your closet, or any sign of sentences such as, "Little Johnny just has so much going on that I never get a moment to myself! Soccer, karate, tap dancing...it just takes up my whole day!" This sentence will never happen in my household. Little Johnny will have to sit and read or draw, patiently, while mommy finishes her painting or drinks a glass of wine. Little Johnny's life does not become all that is my life. Biggest fear. Written out. For all to see.

14. Everything will start to get better in about 2 weeks. Everyone says it will. You have to believe them. You have to.

15. Your back will hurt and cause you to have to stop writing blogs in mid-sentence because you're too