Uhtceare, “Dawn-Sorrow”

Remembering the first

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Today marks exactly nine weeks into this pregnancy, which also marks the exact moment that I miscarried in my first pregnancy. In my mind, that makes this day the perfect time to finally write about that experience with all the joy, excitement, stress, sorrow, and trauma that that time period held for me. So break out your tissues because, if you’re like me, this one’s going to be a tear-jerker. Also, it’s long…

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Sensory Overload

And not just olfactorily.

We’ve all heard about the superhuman ability to smell EVERYTHING that pregnant women have. Unfortunately for me, I already had that ability before getting pregnant. For example, I once detected a friend’s Altoids in a bag inside her suitcase from across my apartment when we walked in the door without knowing they were there. I walked in and said, “What’s that smell? It’s either Bengay or Altoids.” Yes, I freaked both her and John out with my bloodhound nose. Now, imagine that ability ramped up because of pregnancy hormones, and you’ll get a small glimpse at the special kind of hell I’ll be in while walking the smoldering streets of New York City in the summer. Here’s hoping I don’t have to be in the city much this summer…

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And She Shall Eat ALL THE THINGS

…except that and that and that…

Today is officially week 8 of this “magical” pregnancy experience (excuse me while I swallow back some vomit), and all I can say is that I am sick and tired of eating, of wanting to eat but not knowing what to eat, of thinking the pain in my stomach is hunger but not sure, and of food-related things in general. In case you were wondering, today’s post is dedicated to all things food in my first trimester. So, here we go.

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Deep Breath, Strong Heart

And there it was.

Until I surpass my ninth week, a lot of the way I think about this pregnancy and therefore what I will end up writing here will have to do with comparing and contrasting this pregnancy with my first. In some ways, they’re very similar, like my sore breasts and blessed lack of morning sickness. In some ways, they’re very different, like my need to eat a whole meal every two hours this time as opposed to my need to drink a lake in one day last time. One striking difference happened last Thursday: my first prenatal checkup.

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So I’m Pregnant… Again…

Second pregnancy, all the rage.

The first time that I found out I was pregnant was a few weeks after Thanksgiving in 2015. My husband John and I had decided to try to conceive the following summer, but combined with missing him after being apart for a week and losing any of my remaining shits to give about the academic job market (which is abysmal and discouraging on the best of days) and finishing my dissertation (which I ended up finishing and graduating that May anyway), well, whoops…

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