Welcome to my blog. I feel a bit silly to even be writing this but you and I are so far away from each other and I want to make sure you don't miss out on any tiny, excruciating detail of this experience. You're welcome.
First, I'll explain the blog name to you. My family dubbed me Penguin when I was a wee one. I don't dwell on the reasons for this because certain words don't make me too happy - short, waddle, clumsy, short - you get the picture. Overall I like Penguin, it suits me. Now add that nickname to my dad's favourite story about me. I apparently taught myself to read ... with the Bible ... on the toilet. Dad walked by to hear me on the pot, talking to myself. Naturally he assumed it was regular 4-year old gibberish but he listened more closely and heard me pronouncing "So & so beget so & so, Blah blah blah beget blah blah blah ..." I guess I was just an Old Testament kind of girl.
Anyway, this penguin is now expecting her own little one but we haven't come up with a comfortable way to refer to the Expected One. They throw the word "bub" around here but it puts me into a murderous rage for some reason. Do not call it a bub unless you want me to smack you - ask Marcel. I was particulary fond of Cletus the Fetus for about 20 minutes but it got less funny every time I said it. Cut to the end of this rambling and I think Penguin is a suitable name for the unborn wonder.
I haven't gone to an actual doctor yet so my details are a little sketchy thus far. I went yesterday for my official blood tests at a clinic so I'll go get the confirmation of that pregnancy test (hopefully my two at home tests were accurate or I'm going to feel like a jackass & this blog will disappear very quietly) and start the process of finding myself a doctor here. I do not have private insurance and no, I am not scared. I have friends here who have had or are about to have their babies on Medicare and have been incredibly happy with the service and options they have. The universal health insurance here means I don't pay a penny for anything during my pregnancy - checkups, ultrasounds, hospital stay, etc. It also means I don't get to choose who will delivery my baby - I get whoever's on duty and I will not have a private room. Luckily Australia's baby bonus applies to us ... I think ... I'm going to research that today to ease my mind.
So because I have not visited a real doctor yet, I have turned to the next best thing - the internet. I put in the date of the first day of my last cycle and it churned out that our due date is May 20th. Oh, the magic of the internet. May is awesome on both sides of the world (as the Temptations once wisely said "When it's cold outside, I've got the month of May") and many of my favourite people have celebrations during May: Herbert's birthday, my parents' wedding anniversary, one of our dogs' birthday (the Amish never figured out which registration belonged to whom so it could be Roxy or Saffron) and no I didn't forget Bono's birthday. So if the internet is dependable I'll be happy with May.
Because we've only known about this pregnancy for about 72 hours, nothing has been decided about anything basically. I can assure you of a few things:
1. Our child will probaby have a "unique" name. Deal with it. Whatever it is, it will grow on you.
2. Our nursery will be the single most awesome room you have ever laid eyes on. Bonus points to this if our landlord allows us to paint.
3. There will be cankles. Please don't stare directly at them or I will cry.
4. Marcel is going to be tip toeing around the newfound crazy in our life.
I really, really, really did not think I was pregnant before I took this test. My lady cycle had been all over the place for the past few months so I kept some tests on hand so everything month when I was a week or two late, I could set my mind at ease. This time I had a little surprise. Any symptoms I had basically felt just like PMS so we had a bit of a shock when the test came back positive. Took another one the next day and were still shocked. We'll probably be shocked again when my blood test comes back positive. Of course, the second I saw that 2nd line on the test my stomach felt crampy and started to grow - amazing how that happens to neurotic people like me. I have now gone to Border's (with my 30% off coupon) and gotten my copy of What to Expect When You're Expecting because all of the other books were even more annoying and it tells me that my tummy pooch is more likely "bowel distension" but I don't want to know what that means. Here are the very few symptoms I have had:
1. Cramps - no worse than PMS
2. Tightness - no worse than gas (okay, sometimes it's accompanied by gas as well)
3. Food aversions - haven't craved anything but I want no part of the berry jam I used to always have on toast at work. Makes me gag suddenly.
4. Music sensitivity - this one I may have made up but I've been listening to certain albums a lot recently, then suddenly I just didn't appreciate them anymore and have gone back to the music of my youth (lots of U2 and I have the desperate need to download the Singles soundtrack).
5. A touch of mean. This usually coincides with Marcel giving me advice of any kind and is followed by apologies.
6. More peeing than usual but I'm also upping my intake of water so fair's fair.
7. Tired, tired, tired.
8. The fear of summer. Okay, it's not really a symptom but I'll be pregnant all through summer, without air conditioning so our sea breeze better not fail us. The last couple of months will thankfully be cooling off but I'm terrified of having pregnancy issues while hot and sweaty. Such a bad mixture.
That's all I've got for now. I'm off to get fruits, veggies, nuts and all that shit I suddenly have to eat to make the little penguin happy & healthy. Gone are the days of pregnant women indulging themselves apparently. I'm also told (by my book & the blasted internet) that I have to exercise every day. We'll be adopting any future children.
r Little Miss but I got those boxes at IKEA for a hilariously low price and they are exactly the colours I want for a baby room. The Animalz are from the greatest store on earth The Pajama Squid (http://www.thepajamasquid.com/), which is owned by one of my favourite people on earth Tiffany King. And every child needs a pillow of the greatest president ever. I even went so far as to move all these items into our current guestroom/future baby room (pending negotiations with Mr. Eisele who thinks we should just throw the crib by the computer in his depressing office)(he is going to lose this battle). Anyway, that's it for the nursery for a couple of months.
