Dear ex-boyfriends

Dear ex-boyfriends, ex-dates, ex-setups, ex-somethings,

I am no longer available. I haven't been in a while. It seems like some of you didn't get the memo. I am married, barefoot and pregnant.

My idea of partying hard theses days is when I get to stay up until nine pm, because then I get really sleepy.

I am a "girl gone wild" for chocolate only and my shape is curvy, all right, just not on the places you remember.

So please refrain from texting, calling, emailing and wanting to be friends on facebook and know that when some of you contact me, I throw up in my mouth a little.




Turbulence and belly rubbing

When you are riding in an airplane and you feel the scariest turbulence of your life... Do you pull out a parachute from your carry on and jump off? No.

When you are in the dentist, getting a root canal, and it seems like your dentist is drilling something in your skull... Do you get up half way through the operation and say you had enough? No.

Pregnancy is sorta like that. You can't quit half way just because you are scared of the birthing process. You have to suck it up and ride it out.

Every expecting mother is aware of this. We know we will have to either push a human out through an impossibly small hole or have our guts sit on a side table while a doctor does his thing with a deep cut that will leave an ugly scar for, like, ever.

We've seen the videos. We have the books. We are living in the same planet.

So why is it that veteran mothers find it so vital to share their horror stories?

Everywhere I turn, someone wants to tell me how terribly awful their deliveries were while they rub my belly.

Don't get me wrong. I love hearing about the ones that didn't feel much pain or that were able to give birth by themselves. That makes me believe it is doable and that I can come out alive on the other side. I have a super hero friend (a real super hero; not the kind that only smells farts far away - check out the post named "Super Hero"), that had her baby in her kitchen, by herself. She is so calm when she tells the story that I wonder if she is still high from the shock.

What I don't like is the free stories... The ladies I barely know that show up on my face from out of nowhere with their hands full of fingers aiming to touch my belly (it's still my body, you know?) and go on to tell me that having the epidural is a moot point; that I will feel pain regardless, and that delivering the placenta equals extracting the claws of a stubborn and humongous leach.

So here is a note to all the moms out there: we, first time moms, don't need to hear your perplex stories unless you had an orgasm delivering.

Also, please don't touch our bodies without our permission. I don't care that it was OK in your generation or in your culture. In mine there is something called privacy, or personal bubble, meaning, if you step too close, you may get punched on the face.


The Octopus Alien

When my husband arrives from work and I happen to be at home, I rush to the door that leads to the garage like a puppy. Yes, feminists! I am that kind of wife.

While he takes his dirty boots off, he lifts his head and from his plane of vision, he sees my belly sticking out of my shirt first, which I guess is a funny vision, because he always laughs and sometimes asks, "What do you have in there?"

I usually say, "a baby," "a boy," or "a small person," but today I told him, concerned, "I am starting to think it is an octopus."

The baby kicks from so many angles that I can no longer make out what could be an arm or a leg. Today he kicked so violently that my cell phone, which rested on my belly, bounced away (wish I had gotten that in video!)

It's almost as if there is a creature in there with more than four limbs.

Have you seen the movie alien?

Well, I have, when I was five years old, and promised myself that I would never ever see it again, and I haven't.

There is a scene where the alien is growing inside this person and his belly starts moving in weird shapes. Suddenly the alien jumps out and kills everybody.

I remember sleeping between my parents the night I saw that movie and I shivered in fear.

(I think the only other time in my life I have shivered in fear was in a haunted forest during Halloween. I was not five, though, but more like twenty five years old. This psycho killer person chased after me with a chainsaw, and of course no one bothered to tell me that the chainsaw didn't have nails until I almost had a heart attack and was safely drinking my apple cider outside the forest)

Anywho, my point is, a growing baby kicking looks a lot like that alien movie, except it is cute. Don't tell my husband this, but when the baby kicks really hard, raising my belly an inch momentarily, I sort of lightly poke back at it hoping we could start up some kind of morse code communication.

Here is an interesting video of an octopus alien. Note: this is not my belly, and you need sound to really feel the full effect of this video.

Octopus Alien (with Shark theme)


Super Powers

I posted this a while ago, as one of the first pregnancy symptoms, but I think it deserves to be re-posted, because it keeps on happening.


...I went for a walk in my neighborhood on a beautiful afternoon the other day and thought I was all alone on the street. The smell of flowers seemed stronger and also of the recent rain on the ground. Suddenly, I smelled... fart, and I am pretty sure it wasn't me.

I looked around and spotted a woman walking her dog on the other side of the street. I squinted my eyes at her, puzzled. She looked back at me and in the split second that our eyes locked, I read in her expression: guilty.

Then I wondered, fascinated: Could I have developed super smelling powers? Could I have sensed this other person's fart from across the street?

I had forgotten, then, that I was pregnant and didn't know that expecting mothers have over-hyped olfactory senses. I actually considered, at that moment, that maybe something odd and exotic was happening with me. Isn't this how every super hero movie starts? Hero smells something far away and the next thing you know he has webs coming off his hands, or he is flying around the planet to turn back the time.

Evert since then my nose has been capable of detecting and decoding the strangest smells, but other people's flatulence is by far the most frequent occurrence.

I am just not sure what good I can bring to the humanity with this new found super powers besides sensing far away farts.


Holy Cow

I saw this outfit and it brought back a smile to my face . Check out the tail.

Blues (not the music kind)

It starts very subtle. One day you wake up and instead of jumping off the bed singing and full of energy like you usually do (at least I do), you look at the ceiling, with eyes half-open, and wonder how you will get out of bed.

You start a fight with your mother via Instant Message, when she lives on the other side of the planet, and let it escalate to unproportional levels. You involve your poor dad in the discussion, pulling him out of his cigarette comma. Thankfully your mother has the presence of mind to log off and your dad goes further into his cave not to get involved.

With your irritable batteries still charged, you aim for the next victim: your unsuspecting husband.

Here is the disconcerting thing about the blues: when you are blue, you don't know you are blue. You just feel lethargic, tired, emotional, irritable, uncomfortable, and you think it has GOT to be someone else's fault. "I can't be unhappy just because," you tell yourself, "That would make me a crazy person, and I am not a crazy person. Somebody or something has caused this, but whom or what?"

Then you have a fight with your own shadow, because you can't get your mind to shut up. That's usually when the crying begins, and like a faulty faucet, it doesn't seem to stop.

Your brain craves good fats, but of course what it tells you is that you need chocolate, which in turns makes your brain even more unhappy, adding up to the anxiety that you now feel with the extra sugar, caffeine, and guilty overindulgent feelings.

The rational side of you (what is left of it), tells you to get moving, that exercise will be good for you. You tell it no, and grow roots on the couch, because when you are blue, moving sounds like water boarding.

When you are not pregnant and you are blue, you get your period and suddenly everything makes sense. You go back to waking up in a good mood and you go through an apologizing stage with loved ones.

Here is the thing they don't tell you about pregnancy, however: you don't have to wait until postpartum to get depression. You could get blue out of the blue, and there's no menstrual period in sight to end it all.

There's always shopping, though, and that's where I am forcing myself to go to try and lift this foul cloud. Wish me luck.


Watch a male give birth

Here is a video of a male giving birth (with contractions and all) to multiples:

Male Birth

As I observe my husband lay on his back on the couch, all comfortable and muscular and with his wide hips, while I move with seal (off land) agility and never ever finding a comfortable position, wondering if my bone structure is wide enough for a human head to pass through, I have to confess: watching male seahorses give birth on youtube gives me eye pleasure.

Somewhere along the evolution of these creatures, the females got very pissed off and being a tad feminist, declared that the males should get pregnant and go through labor instead. It only makes sense, if you ask me. Males are stronger and wider. They complain more about pain, but that's because they don't go through periods to remind them monthly that Eve ate the apple first. I think they could get used to it.

Have you seen a UFC fighter? They get punched on the face and keep on moving. That's a man for you. When they complain about other pains, that's because there is a female around and they want attention.

In this evolutionary process, the female seahorses also became very aggressive. They approach the males first and seduce them. They get them pregnant and then they leave. They go on to live their fabulous sea lives with their tummies and reputations intact. Pretty avant-garde, in my opinion. Maybe they are onto something.

Linea Nigra (Q&A)

What is it?

It's a dark line starting on the belly button that goes all the way down to the hooha.

How do you get that?

First you meet a boy, then you get naughty and about six months later your estrogen levels will be crazy enough to make your melatonin go berzerk as well (along with your moods). You will get dark in strange areas, like breasts and scars, and then your body will paint a line on your belly just for the heck of it.

Does every preggo lady gets that?

No, you have to be a bit brown, or have some brownie in your blood.

That means you are not white? I thought you were.

No, sir, I am a mutt. I have a drop of something else in my blood (a mix of Native Brazilian and Italian? Dunno). Also, the sooner you get those, the more melatonin you have.

Is it pretty?



Baby Talk

They say you should talk with your baby while still in the belly, so I started it. I'm just not sure what I am supposed to say, so I just say whatever comes to my mind.

Here are some things I say to my belly, while rubbing it:

"Do you want another piece of brownie? I think you do!"

"What in the world are you DOING in there?" (when he moves around a lot, pushing my insides)

"If you turn out like that, I will send you to military school." (while watching Supernanny)

"Did you get the strawberries I sent you? They must be getting there right about now! Aren't they yummy?"

"Good morning to you too!" (when he kicks first thing in the morning)

"Bom dia para voce tambem!" (here hoping baby is bilingual already)

"Could you please sit somewhere else? You just squeezed the crap out of my bladder and I rushed to the bathroom, but there was no pee in there."

"Mommy is going to take you to Napa Valley so she can go wine tasting once you are here. Isn't it exciting?"

"Baby, you are never going to go hungry." (while looking at my gigantic breasts in the mirror)

"I'm going to hug you and squeeze you and call you George" (do you remember that cartoon? Here is a link: Bugs Bunny and Abominable Snow Man )

"I think snoopy will be your best friend. Snoopy is awesome." (while shopping for crib bedding themes and finding snoopy to be the coolest)

"We could have had it aaaaaaaaaall... Rolling in the deeeeeep...." (singing for baby)

"I love you!" (just because)

"All right, all right, I will give you another piece of brownie."

Males (of the Marine kind)

As I watched my husband walk around after showering yesterday, and while snuggling with preggo pillow before bedtime (a traditional favorite past-time of mine now), I suddenly realized, "Oh my God! There's one of those (males) living inside of me! How wild is that?"

In Brazil there is a joke that the only time a woman has a brain inside of her with some reasoning, mathematical skills and sense of direction, is when she is expecting a male.

I am glad I have my husband and that he is a Marine, meaning, he is not afraid of much and likes to explode things, so my boy will not be a softy.

Being a girl makes you soft, whether you want to or not. I like to think I am tough, but my estrogen almost always takes precedent.

The lowest point of my day, for instance, is when I have to catch caterpillars off my tomato plants. I HATE CATERPILLARS! They are green and fat and nasty. And they eat my tomatoes. I screw up my face in disgust every time I see one and grab it with a very, very, very long stick, then throw it with one swoop over the fence, because being a girl, you don't kill things.

(Btw, I think I have hit some people walking dogs outside with the flying caterpillars, because one day I threw one out there and heard someone say, "WTF!!!")

When I recruit my husband to do the job, however, he crabs them with his bare fingers, squeeshing the juices off of the bug. He is my hero when he does that and no victims outside get caterpillar rain.

The other day my husband came home with bruises on his neck from martial arts training (Marine style, I guess). I was excited to tell him that my passion fruits had flowered, and decided not to share that silly, girlie part of me after he told me about his day; about how this one guy was choking him, but then he turned around and choked him too.

So you see, we are different species, and I am glad this little man growing inside of me will have a dad to teach him not to be afraid of caterpillars and that sometimes it's OK to choke people.


It's not tapeworm!

This morning, as my husband and I walked into the ultrasound's office, he said, "Can't wait to find out what you have in there that is kicking your bladder and sucking the life out of you!" And I said, "Don't get your hopes up. It might not be a girl OR a boy. It might just be a huge tapeworm."

Last night my friend Jaqueline had me leave the leaving room and hid a fork and a spoon under the couch. Then she told me to seat wherever I wanted on it. If I set on top of the fork, I'd have a boy. I set on the fork.

In my dreams I always played with a boy. My sister-in-law says my feet are not swollen, so it's a boy. My mother and mother-in-law say that because it moves too much, it is a boy. My husband said that because the heart rate was low, it is a boy. The check out counter lady at Wal Mart said it is a girl because I look fat (she said the word "wide," which I translated to fat).

Turns out Wal Mart (bitch) lady was wrong, and it's also not tapeworm! We are on team blue!!!!!


Other mammal mommas

Here are a couple of pictures I took today of other mammal mommas: dolphins and their babies.

They followed our boat by a golden sunset; about two hundred of them, along with two Blue whales and a friendly Minke whale, while dozens of pelicans flew by. I wanted to say it looked like in the movies, but I have never seen anything like this on the screen. The only other comparison I can make is that this must be what heaven looks like.

When a momma dolphin jumped out of the water, a few feet away and along with the speed of our boat, baby dolphin jumped at the same rate, slightly behind her. I wonder if in dolphin language, baby dolphin was saying, every time it came off the water, "Momma!...Momma!... Wait!...Momma!... Where are we swimming to?...Mom!... Look at me!...Momma!... Are we there yet?...Mom!...Yo, mom!... I'm bored!... Momma!... Look at me!"

I wonder if baby dolphins want as much attention as the foreign kid seating next to me (whom threw tantrums and annoyed the crap out of his parents - and me) in the boat. I wanted to feed this kid to the whales, but unfortunately these whales only eat planktons.

Here are interesting facts about pregnant whales that the guide told us: they gain eight pounds an hour while expecting (and I thought I was a whale - those whales are whales!), their babies are twenty five feet in length when they are born breeched, and they breast feed for over a year!

Momma dolphins also breast feed for about nine months and their babies are always by their side.

Guide dude says that whale mom's milk tastes like condensed milk and of course my mind went into visualizing how he could have possibly found this out (that would have taken some serious scuba diving skills).

Meanwhile in the oven room, the person inside of me did little kicks of happiness with all the sea commotion.


Say hello to my little friend


and why we are close

I have a new understanding for Linus Van Pelt and his blankie. You can certainly become friends with an object made for sleeping.

You can lay your head and your belly on the preggo pillow, hug it and put your legs around it all at once.

The preggo pillow can also spoon you from behind.

The preggo pillow is confy, fluffy and awesome.

The preggo pillow will keep you company when you have insomnia. You can drag it to the couch and you will fall asleep on each others' arms while watching TV.

The preggo pillow does not get a hard on just by spooning you, does not snore, nor elbows you on the face by accident because it had a bad dream, because preggo pillows don't dream.

Preggo pillows don't talk. They don't have opinions.

The preggo pillow is bulky and comes in tacky colors but appearances don't matter in this relationship.

I don't understand why preggo pillows are marketed to expecting mothers only, because every woman should have one.


Rodents and I

Here are the things mice and I have in common:

We sneak out of our rooms in the middle of the night when all are asleep (meaning, husband) and hope no one wakes up and catches us. We are very hungry at that time. We have big bellies, short legs and little feet. We are furry. We can be cute, but sometimes we are vicious. We can rip through a box of cookies with a lot of precision, speed and dexterity. We will eat crumbs, and we love cheese. You can find us in the kitchen around 3am.

I will never ever eat chocolate again!!!!

...that is, for the next hour or so.

Today is my birthday and husband gave me a box of Godiva chocolates.

Actually, he was obligated to do so.

My husband likes surprises and even after the whole wedding ring fiasco (where I threatened him with his life if he didn't propose to me already), he still doesn't understand I don't like surprises... Just give it to me straight.

I pestered him the whole evening to give me my chocolate. I knew the box was somewhere in the house. He kept saying, "...but it's not your birthday yet!" and my preggo hormones yelled back, "I don't f... care! Give me my gift, damn it!" Aren't I sweet? (actually, I am not that mean and, oh, husband scored some serious points by also giving me a preggo pillow - more on that later - and tickets for whale watching. yay!)

Fast forward to 2am and after a few (ok, a lot of) chocolate truffles, and I am wide awake with the worst heartburn EVER. They say that if you have heartburn while preggo you will have a harry kid. In that case I am having a freaking ape.


Suddenly very pregnant

The scale is a depressing place to be these days. My breasts have reached the ungodly size of E, which probably stands for ENORMOUS. I didn't even know they made sizes E for bras. In pictures I look like I am on 3D and no photoshop will fix this balloon version of Mariana.

I keep telling myself that "it's all baby" but this baby better be 8lbs already, because that's what the scale keeps telling me I have gained.

I swear my baby has grown from one day to the next. Up until month five I just looked like I ate one too many cookies, but as I approach month six, I woke up one day, looked down and could no longer see my feet, but the toes.

And the mirrors... why, oh why did we buy a house full of them? Our bedroom closets' doors are mirrors and when I wake up in the morning there is a chipmunk, swollen face looking back at me. What a terrible decorative idea to put so many mirrors in a bedroom. A man definitely came up with that. No woman wants to look at herself first thing in the morning, especially with so many lights coming from unflattering angles, and especially when you are carrying a child in a five foot tall body.

I still don't understand men, as a matter of fact. I still get hit on in traffic by guys in their cars. I never understood that, even before pregnancy. What do they think we will do? Roll down the window and blow them kisses? Flash our boobs? Follow them and give them our phone numbers? WTF?

Of course the same guys' smiles die when I come out of my car, so I know I definitely look pregnant.


Pregnant brain and mother instincts

I was never one to be too fond of children.

A few years ago I could be quoted as saying, "...they are selfish, needy, noisy and always have boogers running down their noses. Who in their right minds would want to make one?"

Also, I have always thought that there is something architecturally wrong with a whole person coming out of my vagina. This always scared the bejesus out of me. Why can't there be storks? Or why can't we be like kangaroos or something?

However, like everything else in my life, if it is scary and I should be running the other way, I jump right in.

Take a look, for instance, on the answers I have given to the following life questions:

- Wanna move to another country where you barely speak the language?
- Sure!

- Wanna go diving where sharks eat?
- Why not?

- Wanna climb a steep mountain without a belay system and where a girl died last week?
- Sounds like a plan!

- Wanna quit your job and start your own business when you have zero cash?
- Okie dokie!

- Wanna go spelunking in a freezing cave with lots of mysterious deep holes and when it is 20 degrees outside?
- Bring it!

- Wanna get married when we have no place to live?
- Yes!

- Wanna get divorced when YOU have no place to go?
- Alrighty.

- Wanna get married again?
- Yup!

- Wanna move across the country and start all over again?
- Where do I sign?

- Wanna have a baby?
- Yes, baby!

So, needless to say the mother instincts didn't kick in right away.

To be completely honest, I was more worried about getting fat than anything else when my period was late and my boobs started growing exponentially from day zero of ovulation.

When I left the doctor's office, where I peed in yet another cup, this time an official doctor's one, and it confirmed that I was in fact pregnant, I was in a transe. I wondered what kind of mother I would become.

You see, I don't like mothers. I love mine, but I find mothers in general to be pretty annoying. They all think their offspring is the best thing since peanut butter and jelly and the very busy ones look like shit, so being a mom was not one of those dreamy aspirations from my childhood. As a matter of fact, I didn't like dolls. I loved stuffed bears. I changed their diapers and gave them milk, but the dolls seemed too real, so they went neglected in a drawer.

For a while, I joked about my lack of motherhood inspiration, by saying that if a kid of mine said, "mom, I am hungry!" I would say back, "me too! what should we do?"

I left the doctor's office, which was in the middle of a very busy intersection and, strangely and like a sign, a momma duck and her ducklings passed in front of me, heading who knows where. I watched her as she crossed the road, where cars honked, and kept watching when she and her babies passed a dangerous construction site, full of trucks and cranes and evil machines, before disappearing safely in a corner.

I understood then, the heavenly message, "If she can do this, maybe so can I."

There is a book called "The Female Brain" where there is a whole chapter on how a woman's brain changes when she becomes pregnant.

Blame it on hormones, but I can feel those changes kicking in. I am suddenly OBSESSED with babies. I daydream about them. I look at pictures of babies in maternity magazines like they are food. I daydream about holding my child, touching its little feet, making it smile, being a good momma.

When the doc gave me a "pregnancy kit" that had a tiny, little firstborn diaper in it, I cried for a good few hours (but then again I weep at a drop of a hat these days). My poor husband didn't know what to do when all I could say while holding the diaper was, "It's so little!"

My obsession extends to my plants. When a new baby tomato, or new baby pepper is born, I take a picture of them and if you are my neighbor, you will hear me talking with them (yes, I am the crazy pregnant lady that talks with her plants).

My friends that are also not certain about children keep asking me to tell them the truth, and nothing but the truth, about the whole experience, to know if it is all that is cracked up to be.

The truth is, it is, and more. When the baby moves I feel a deep connection to it and a sense of protection. It's a person I love so dearly already and can't wait for it to come out so I can hug it and care for it, even if it is through a tiny vagina. The pain of birth, actually, no longer scares me. I see it now as just a passage, a ritual, something that has to be done so all the real wild rumpus can begin.

Because I am carrying this life, I feel so blessed. I secretly feel sorry for my husband for not being able to experience this at such a level.

I always wanted to be a man. I wanted to pee standing up, and be able to travel to remote locations by myself without fearing being raped and murdered. I wanted to not feel cramps and have periods.

For the first time in my life, however, I feel that being a woman is the best sex to be, so keep kicking me, baby person.

Surprising things no one told me about pregnancy

I knew I was going to gain weight. I knew I may feel a little sick. I knew I would become hungry and emotional, but no one told me these surprising findings. I don't think every woman goes through them and I am sure some of you mommas haven't, but here we go:

1 - Heartburn - No one told me I would have to sleep seating upright because of this excruciating pain in my belly.

2 - Zits - I have zits even on my stomach. I counted the ones from my face and shoulders and when I got to 40, I stopped counting.

3 - Fat - This was pleasantly surprising. You don't get fat right away. In fact, you don't even need to. Just don't stuff your face with junk. I thought my body would turn against me and pack on the fat, but none of that has happened (yet).

4 - Morning sickness - I knew I would get a litte queasy, but since I am a person that NEVER throws up I thought this wouldn't happen to me. Wrong. I spent the first three months hugged to a toilet.

5 - Peeing on your pants when you sneeze - Enough said.

6 - Tiredness - Have you ever gone skiing for three days in a row, or rode your bike for 70 miles in one day, or ran a marathon? That's how I feel... every day.

7 - Nesting - I've heard that women clean more when pregnant, but my nesting showed up in the most unexpected ways: obsessing about plants (and getting unnecessarily excited when they fruit), isolating from most human beings (when I am a very social person), eliminating toxic people, cleaning up facebook, and wanting a puppy really badly.

8 - Perverts - I thought that once my belly showed, creepy men would stop hitting on me. Personally, I don't think pregnant women are sexy. Apparently a lot of men think differently.

9 - Lack of appetite - I thought pregnant women ate a lot, all the time, but most days I don't feel like eating anything... then suddenly I REALLY HAVE TO HAVE something they don't make around here. The cravings are pretty funny, actually.

10 - Cramps - I couldn't wait to get pregnant so I wouldn't feel menstrual cramps anymore. Boy, was I wrong. I felt the WORSE CRAMPS OF MY LIFE in the first weeks of pregnancy (when implantantion occur) and still feel aches and pains on and off (the so-called ligament pains of the uterus stretching).

11 - Contractions - My doctor kinda forgot to tell me that pregnant women have contractions every day and don't feel it , but that some can be pretty intense. If I knew that, I wouldn't have freaked out as much a week ago. Btw, contractions may not hurt. Sometimes your belly just gets really hard and you feel weird.

12 - Pressure - When you look at a pregnant woman and think: "she looks so uncomfortable, like something is heavy inside her body, squeezing her insides and stretching her skin... but I doubt she feels that way." Trust me on this: you feel everything. Walking sometimes is a bitch. Try sleeping.

13 - Insomnia - You wake up because you need to pee. You wake up because you are starving and you have to eat NOW. You wake up because you have back aches. You wake up because you're horny. You wake up because you had a crazy dream. You wake up because you have heartburn. You wake up because you have difficulty turning your body to the other side. You wake up for no reason at all, every night, at the same time: 3:30, and play angry birds on your phone because you can't go back to sleep.

14 - How to make baby move - have chocolate, eat spicy food, drink something sugary, have an orgasm. I swear the baby does jumping jacks and flips.

15 - Orgasm - Some women (me) have orgasms in their sleep in the first trimester, followed by the most awful cramps, so you have fun and then feel miserable without even trying.

16 - Preggo clothes are not ugly - Some maternity clothes are surprisingly slimming.
17 - Migraines - Some days I see stars, literally.

18 - Aversions - I stopped enjoying coffee from one day to the next. I was an addict before and now I can't stand the smell of it.

19 - Is it gas or baby movement? - You won't know the difference at first unless you fart.

20 - We are all the same - Everyone, of every color, culture and religion, goes through the same exact pregnancy phases. All babies, of all kinds, start moving at around the same time and sucking their thumbs at the same time. I think that's neat.

Half way there

I'm half way there and should have started this blog a long time ago, but who in their right minds can have the right mind to write in the first trimester?

I went from being a workaholic and an energetic person to this blob that I now am. Between hugging the toilet and loathing life, oh, and moving across the country, quitting a business in Africa-hot Virginia and starting another in dry California, I didn't sorta feel like writing.

So here I am, with some energy left, a lot of hunger, and a buck naked person kicking inside of me.

He/she wakes up before I do and is the last one to go to sleep.

Everyone thinks it's a boy because it is very active, which I find to be a dumb think to say because, what do baby girls do, then? Do they just seat in a corner of the uterus sucking their thumbs and thinking about clothes and when they will get to wear them?

Yesterday, during a photography course (where I was by far the youngest and most pregnant person), a leaned over one side of the belly and received three swift and strong kicks, which stopped as soon as I straightened my back. Can this person already have this much personality to kick his/her mom on the ribs if it feels squooshed?
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