Saturday, November 20, 2010

Preganoia Will Destroy Ya

Since ditching IUD numero dos a few months ago, I have become a hyper-crazy symptom-watcher. Every twinge or tummy rumble can only mean One Thing:

"I must be pregnant!"

The non-plan plan had been to treat the (maybe) having another child thing in a very relaxed, no-big-deal fashion. No talk of "trying" or timing or ovulation. We'd just go about our normal, everyday activities (though not, ahem, every day) and not think about it.

Except that I can't stop thinking about it! I am a preganoid lunatic.

So I do things like come out of the bathroom topless and stick my chest in my husband's face. "Do they look bigger?"

"Not really."

"But feel!"

"Um...they feel about the same. Maybe a little smaller than yesterday, actually."

Because, yes, I made him do this yesterday too.

Over the past two weeks, when I haven't been making my husband manually estimate my bra size, I've been taking naps and crying over every little thing (including but not limited to Disney's Robin Hood and not one but two Katy Perry videos!). I remind myself that I haven't been sleeping well, and that sleep deprivation (in me) means teariness and even sometimes nausea. So I'm probably just really tired. But what if I'm pregnant? Oh, God, I'm totally pregnant!

Besides, lack of sleep doesn't explain why I've been craving curried everything. (Black bean curry, potato curry, delicata squash curry, mmm...)

Last night, I had heartburn for the first time in, um...ever? No, wait. There was that one other time. When I was PREGNANT!

The problem is I go through this every month. And then every month, I get my period and feel like an idiot. For about a week and a half, and then I decide once again that I'm pregnant. And I think about taking a pregnancy test, even though I'm probably not pregnant and even if I were, it's way too early to test. Some months, I take a test anyway. The little 'minus' sign convinces me about half the time.

Someone should make giant, economy packs of pregnancy tests for crazy girls like me who want to take one every day. Or maybe I should skip a step and just start peeing on $10 bills.

(As I'm writing this, Rob is out shopping for more curry ingredients and a box of Mother to Be tea. I think he might be an enabler.)