Am I Pregnant? My (Own) Unofficial Guide to Knowing I'm Knocked Up
No morning sickness here, but there were still pretty clear indications with each pregnancy. Here are my own oh-boy-we're-doing-this-again signs.
When you start a family in your late 30s you might want to have your kids close together. I sure did. In the last five years we’ve had the three kids we’d hoped for–that means I’ve been pregnant a lot lately. But it wasn’t always obvious in the earliest days. Morning sickness hasn’t been part of my pregnancies and my periods weren’t exactly regular before, so the standard symptoms didn’t necessarily apply. Still, looking back, there were pretty clear indications, just my own set of them. Here are my oh-boy-we’re-doing-this-again signs:
- I’m mono-tired. You know “the kissing disease”? The one from college that drained your energy and left you only able to lie on your futon watching old episodes of Seinfeld on TBS? Well here’s another condition you can get yourself in by…ahem, “kissing”. I’m exhausted. In fact, I’m so tired in the earliest days of pregnancy that I actually get annoyed. I’m TIRED of being tired. That’s a clue that something’s up.
- I become a bloodhound. Despite a deviated septum and seasonal allergies, my nose is already a sensitive sniffer. But once I get pregnant, it’s off the charts. My nose goes crazy and my new sense of smell is so acute that I can tell if one of the (existing) kids needs a change from a room way. And crusty plates sitting on the counter? No way. This nose just can’t take it.
- Heartburn. I’ve got a pretty tender tummy anyway, but pregnancy makes my acid-prone system go bananas. (Actually, bananas are an automatic trip to Heartburnville and to be avoided unless I’ve got TUMS handy).
- Bloating. There’s a great scene in “The Edge of Reason”, the Bridget Jones’ Diary follow-up, where she thinks she might be preggers, and already showing. How else could her tummy possibly be so pouchy? That’s me! The moment I get pregnant, my natural apple shape goes into high gear. Things are puffy, jeans are tight.
- My husband drives me crazy. Every time I’ve gotten pregnant–but not realized it yet–my patience with my husband, a normal, nice enough guy, is shot. Everything that man does annoys me. Then I finally put it all together, take a test and…realize that we’re not such a bad couple after all.
The thing about pregnancy hormones in my case is, they work well for me. I actually feel more stable, less apt to be moody, more content in general. No wonder I’ve done it so many times.
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