Morning sickness blues.

by slutsunlimited

April 24th 2013

This past week has defined that I am now officially miserable. I have spent approximately 80% of each day with some level of nausea. It varies from the I-just-got-off-a tilt-a whirl feeling in my stomach to the I-drank-a-half-bottle-of-Jameson queasiness/headache combo. The amazing thing about this “morning sickness” is that nothing truly relieves it. I actually called the midwives to see if there was something seriously wrong with me, but they assured me this misery is normal. They commented that the sickness is actually a good indicator that things are progressing as they should, but even that knowledge offered little relief. I finally broke down and went for an acupuncture session after a particularly bad day where I wallowed in self-pity. The acupuncture did offer a small reprieve, but didn’t work magically as I had been praying it would. I keep reminding myself that all of this is totally worth it, but I want to punch anyone in the face who speaks those words to me.


Speaking of punching people’s faces, I don’t even remember what sex is anymore. I feel like it has been years since I’ve wanted someone to touch me. The nausea has even deterred me from masturbating which is practically unspeakable. I typically masturbate often and with passion. Sad, happy, angry, stressed (definitely when stressed), drunk, sober, in my bed, in a car, in an outdoor shower – I like to masturbate (look for my new Dr. Seuss inspired children’s book). Sadly I haven’t even wanted to fuck myself, let alone fuck someone else. “Forced Celibacy by Sickness” should be the title of my first trimester pregnancy memoir.

Other interesting things that have been happening with my body include an explosion of acne on various locations. Arm bumps, check. Oh you would like to see my supple cleavage; well it has a few very attractive splotches.  Acne on my shoulders? You betcha’. Just in time for tank top season. Perhaps my newly acquired “before acne medication” poster -child appearance is also affecting my libido. I’ll let you know for sure when my stomach stops spinning.

In other news, Andy’s mom and sister visited this past weekend, so we didn’t have much time alone regardless of whether or not we would have capitalized on it. We had discussed the baby and our original decision was to not tell his family right away. Andy’s mother is beginning to suffer from Alzheimer’s and we didn’t want to further confuse or complicate her visit. I was fine with that decision. I believe that Andy should make the call when it comes to his family. The visit went really well and Andy ended up telling his sister Dawn on her last evening in town. He told her the full story and she was surprised and excited. She had offered to return to help out after the baby is born, which I was grateful to hear. She has four children and a lot of experience. It was also nice to know that Andy was happy to tell his sister. I have been shocked and amazed at how much he has changed in regards to his original protests about us having a child. He has become more involved recently and I have a feeling that by the time the baby arrives I am going to have to battle him for the baby’s attention.


While reviewing a mental check list of things that I would like to accomplish before November, I had decided that my living arrangements needed to change. To be clear, I absolutely adore my current house. I live in the Marigny, right off of Elysian Fields Avenue in a beautiful single shotgun home complete with a side hall. My bedroom has the original marble mantel and the 15 foot ceilings are decorated with hand carved intricate crown molding. I feel as if I sleep inside a decadent, beautiful cake.  The home also has a second bedroom, living room, formal dining room, large kitchen and giant private backyard filled with fruit trees and ornate foliage. It truly looks as though the house were made specifically for me. Being at this desirable location, my rent is high for a single person (if only the dogs could work), but I’ve been able to pay it for the last few years. Now though, with the added expense of the baby and no paid time off, I realized that I needed to be realistic about my finances.


As I have stated before, Andy and I have never lived together. Over the years, we considered it and even factored the immense savings it would provide us, but we figured that the extra money spent was worth our happiness. I love Andy dearly, but we work different schedules and we have different interest. I like the fact that we get to see each other when we want to, as opposed to when we get home. I admit I’m selfish and particular and I like a bit of mystery to remain in a relationship. I don’t want to know the details of Andy’s bathroom habits, or feel resentful because he isn’t as organized as I am. So how, you may be asking yourself, are we going to raise a kid together? Simple. I decided that I would purchase a house that is either a double or has a separate apartment. Easy enough. Maybe.

At the prompting of my co-worker and friend Cody, I began looking for a real estate agent. Through Facebook, I realized that I bartender I know also happens to be a real estate agent. I emailed Adrienne that day and she immediately responded.  We set up a time for the following afternoon to go over a few things at my house. I had previously sought the assistance of Neighborhood Housing Services on Freret Street (which I highly recommend to anyone who doesn’t know if they can qualify for a home), and they had assured me that I was bank-able. Adrienne explained the home buying process and asked about the characteristics and location of my desired home. We discussed the fact that it would be impossible for me to buy a home in my current neighborhood, the Marigny, or the Bywater as houses now start at $275,000.00 (I am kicking myself in the ass for not buying right after Katrina). I was estimated to be pre-approved for much more than I expected, but don’t want to spend more than $165,000.00 on my first home. Just a brief glance at the market and I immediately felt overwhelmed by my options, or lack thereof. It appears that buying a home may be more difficult than pregnancy.