Not the preggo I thought I'd be.

I always had a special place in my heart for being pregnant. "How adorable," I thought, contemplating the round belly and the instant icebreaker factor with strangers. The attention, the smiles, the questions.

And then I got pregnant. And I got sick.

Now, some people have it much worse than I did. Some people develop HG, a really severe form of "morning sickness" that puts them and the baby at risk. I read about it, but I didn't have it. I just had the 2-3 times daily toilet-hugging sessions with constant low-grade nausea in-between.

Gradually, at around 20 weeks into the pregnancy, the nausea started to wear off a little. I was down to 1-2 technicolor yawns per week! Life was good!

And then I hit 35 weeks and BAM it's back to writing my book. You know how you should do one thing every day that scares you? How about driving down the beltline when out of nowhere, with no time or opportunity to pull over, the vomit reflex kicks in and you're spewing all over yourself and your car. In the rain. Driving 50 miles per hour. Not so fun. And the 20-minute drive home that follows while you try to keep yourself positioned so that nothing gets on the seat because miraculously it has all managed to land on you for the time being? Really not fun.

So as much as I thought I'd be the adorable, happy, "glowing" pregnant lady... It's been more of a whiny, pukey, achy time for me. As a result, I'm trying to keep myself sane over the next 2-6 weeks by marking every Friday (the day my week changes) with a special event. This Friday I'm getting a haircut. Next Friday, a pregnancy massage. I'm not sure what will come after that, but I know that I'll be doing something nice for myself. If only to keep me from poking Baby B and telling him/her to come out RIGHT THIS MINUTE OR ELSE. I've gotta work on my mom voice, right?