And the morning sickness begins.

I didn't realize how lucky I was to more or less dodge morning sickness with my first pregnancy. But last night it hit me really hard - after feeling "off" all day - and I vomited for the first time in quite a while. Luckily I didn't have much in my stomach other than peaches and peppermint tea, and I felt a lot better afterwards, but I went ahead and ordered Sea-Bands on Amazon at 1:00 in the morning because I am not dealing with this for weeks on end. So far all I've had today are oyster crackers, ginger ale and a tangerine, but I'm feeling okay.

To take my mind off the nausea, I watched "13 Going on 30" on Netflix. I straight up sobbed at the part where the main character goes home to see her parents after a long time. Like, shoulder-shaking, snorting, ugly-crying.

I'm making a grocery list right now and am alternating between being hungry and a little queasy. I'm looking forward to those Sea-Bands getting here and hoping they work for me.

Okay, one more little update.

Okay, I caved and decided to buy the baby its first outfit on eBay. I love Burt's Bees clothing for tiny ones... it's so soft and cute and neutral-colored. They sell it at TJ Maxx, but it's always wintery long-sleeved stuff. Since this will be a summer baby, I thought this would be perfect for a boy or a girl...

The watercolor bees do look a little flowery, but orange is unisex, right?

And here: two photos of my 5 week progression, which I'll admit doesn't look like much, but you  have to start somewhere. Taken with my DSLR propped up on a box of gauze and a toothpaste tube, so you know.

5 weeks today...

I was a little off on my calculation, so I'm actually 5 weeks, not 6. Still not really having too much in the way of symptoms, except none of my pants fit anymore. I'm already about 8 pounds heavier than I was with my first at this point, and while that doesn't seem like much, I'm not a particularly big person and I'm carrying it all in my stomach area. I had to go buy a new pair of jeans yesterday because I'm down to about two semi-fashionable pairs that still button properly. I ended up finding a pair of - ugh - Jessica Simpson jeans that are so comfortable that I considered wearing them out of the store. And they were only $20. Score, I guess, even if they do have that dippy woman's name on the tag.

So it's come to my attention that I need to start walking as much as I can to keep my energy up and my weight under control. I'm going to try to talk my husband into going and getting my parents' unused treadmill tonight.

Other symptoms:

• Hunger. Eating has become the most important thing in the world to me. I threw a huge fit last week when my favorite restaurant had an hour and a half wait.
• Tiredness. It's not too bad, but when the weather is icky and rainy, like it is today, all I want to do is sleep.
• Hot flashes. This isn't uncommon for me; I sleep with two fans on in shorts and a t-shirt in the dead of winter. But that feeling of roasting from the inside out was particularly bad yesterday, especially since we were in my husband's car and I couldn't get the temperature regulated.

Other than that... it's pretty much business as usual. "They" say that similar symptoms in pregnancies point to the same gender, but who know. I can't lie - I do want a boy. I know what to do with boys. I have boxes upon boxes of boy clothes saved. And we have an awesome boy name picked out. I won't be disappointed if it's a girl, but I'll be overjoyed if it's a boy. I guess I'll have until mid- to late March to wonder.

I saw the doctor last Wednesday. He was kind of surprised that I had shown positives so early, but I also ovulate earlier than expected, so I guess it all works out. He's a nice guy; very conservative and reassuring. I go in for an ultrasound on the 7th and I'm hoping to hear back about blood test results in the next couple of days. I have cats and I'm so paranoid about toxoplasmosis; I was negative for it the last time I was pregnant.

I've already started a couple registries for things that we either gave away or need replaced from our first. I feel kind of guilty about doing that, but I figured I can pass the links along to anyone who asks and it's a good way to keep track of the things we need to get for ourselves. We still have a crib, a changing table and a playpen/bassinet combo that are in good shape, not to mention piles and piles of clothes, blankets and whatnot. I think I gave away the bottles, though.

I'm just rambling now. Back to work.  

Let's see how long I can keep this up.

I'm 4 weeks today, and so hot. I had to shut the heat off; I mean, it's December and near 60 degrees, but still. I am absolutely roasting. I went to take a "progress" picture (or maybe just establish a baseline), but I felt gross and deleted them. I guess I better get used to that.

After I dropped Hank off at preschool this morning, I spent almost $100 at the grocery store and spent most of the time wanting to curl up in the cart and go to sleep. I bought some vanilla-flavored Carnation instant breakfast things, mainly for the protein to keep me awake now that caffeine is out of the picture, but also for the extra vitamins. This pregnancy, so far, is exactly like the last: no real symptoms except tiredness and appetite increase. I made sure to get lots of healthy snacks because I am determined not to put on a ton of weight this time around. With Hank, I gained 31 pounds, which my midwife said was perfect given my body type. I think I weigh slightly more than I did when I got pregnant the first time around, but it should all even out as long as I don't give into the Dairy Queen cravings.

I guess the other difference is that I'm REALLY impatient for things to start happening, now that I've been-there-done-that. Then again, I don't want it to go by too quickly, because I want to enjoy the time Hank and I have while it's "just us." I'm going to take him to a children's museum after his dentist appointment next Tuesday.

I'm enjoying this writing every day thing. I hope I can get back in the habit.

And there it is.

Well, this explains a lot.

It explains the intense cravings I've had for junk like Dairy Queen Blizzards and Lucky Charms cereal. It explains the heartburn that I normally never have. It explains the headaches I remember from before. It explains the random twinges that feel a little like cramps even though I rarely, if ever, get cramps. And it explains that feeling I had in the back of my mind that we did it right, that even though I still had a week before my period started, something made me grab two tests at the store this afternoon.

I'm really, really happy. And scared. I wish I could talk more about my feelings, but right now I'm in the "put non-ugly maternity clothes on my private Amazon wishlist" phase. Seriously, besides Target and Old Navy, there is nothing under $50 I would wear. The brand "ripe" (kind of a strange name) has some seriously cute clothes, but there's no way in hell I'm spending $75 on a freakin' tank top.

Still here.

Well, here we are, almost at the six-month deadline, and no pregnancy yet. I've been charting using the Ovia app on my phone and finally got around to getting an ovulation predictor kit this past cycle, which confirmed what I already assumed... I am ovulating fairly early in my cycle, to the point where implantation may just not be happening. There may not be enough time between my period and the ovulation to produce a hospitable environment for a fertilized egg.

As I understand, there's medication for this, but ... I just don't know if I want to push it. I put our little guy to bed tonight, and he was so good and sweet, letting me brush his teeth, change him into jammies and tuck him and his stuffed toys into a little toddler-sized air-mattress at the foot of my bed (his daddy is sick with the stomach flu and I want to make sure he doesn't startle awake in the night with the same thing). He's just such an easy child, and I feel like I'm doing him a disservice by not giving him a sibling, but... I don't know.

I wish I'd just get pregnant and then I wouldn't have to make any more decisions about it.

Here we go again.

 The day after my husband Kyle and I decided to try for another baby, our three-year-old slathered himself in his own feces. Literally, it was like 24 hours after we said “Okay, we’re doing this” that I was trying to get some writing done and put Hank in front “Milo and Otis” for a half-hour so I could knock out a commissioned blog entry about dental implants. After awhile, I realized it was way too quiet in there, so I got up from my seat at the kitchen table and was hit in the face by the overwhelming smell of crap. Hank was perched casually on the edge of the couch, with his hands folded together as if in prayer. There was poop all of both of his hands, his stomach, his back, and a couple streaks across his face. “I need to wipe my hands off,” he declared.

It took us this long to conclude that having another baby was a sound, if not completely exciting decision. Hank was a relatively easy baby – he hardly cried, made the transition to a bottle easily after my boobs decided they were not going to dispense milk properly, and he was sleeping through the night nine weeks in. But my hormones and serotonin got all wackadoo and I was served up some pretty hardcore post-partum depression for the better part of a year before we got all the anti-depressants and anxiety and birth control figured out.

Ah, the birth control. Hank made his appearance on a plastic stick while I was on the Pill because I, not thinking of the side-effects, took some leftover antibiotic when I got hit with a urinary tract infection over Memorial Day in 2011. (Side note: I am not particularly good at remembering to take medicine when I should, which might help explain the unplanned pregnancy and why I had old Bactrim lying around.) Naturally, after I had Hank and realized that breastfeeding was not in the cards for us, I went back on the Pill because ain’t nobody got time for all that business. Of course, a month after giving birth, I was in absolutely no mood to have sex, and the added hormones plus the screwed-up brain chemistry only solidified that feeling, so I suppose it did its job by proxy. Kyle wisely gave me an extra-wide berth during that time.

So! For the sake of everybody’s sanity, I did some research and decided that Paragard, the copper IUD, was the most effective and lowest-maintenance birth control available. No hormones involved, nothing to remember, just throw that pogo stick in there and we’re good to go. Aside from the placement  – which was no big deal, but I was so nervous about the whole thing that I made kind of an idiot of myself at the doctor’s office – I love it. It has almost no side effects; a little longer period, but that’s it. I can check the little strings as necessary to make sure things are still where they need to be.  And it does its job. Hank is 3 years and 3 months old at the time of this writing, and he’s still an only child.

He’s still an only child.

As I was over at our old house last weekend, cleaning out what remained in Hank’s former closet, I told Kyle tearfully that depriving Hank of a sibling because of our own fears was the most selfish thing we could do. When we’re gone, who does he have left? Sure, he’ll probably have a family of his own, but whatever he started with will disappear. Kyle is 36; I’m 34. Our window for safely conceiving a healthy baby is getting narrower by the day. I don’t want to wake up in ten years, I told him, and wish we still had time to grow our family.

So as I scrubbed the floor in the room where we cut our teeth on parenting, we decided to try for another baby. We established some ground rules early on – six months of trying, then it’s snippy-snip time for Kyle. That may seem like too much pressure, but if even if we were to conceive tomorrow, I’d be halfway through 35 at delivery. That’s just cutting it too close for my comfort level.

I started the process today by going to the OB/GYN and having my IUD removed. That was refreshingly simple. I had the idea in my head that they’d pull it out in a similar manner to the way one starts a lawnmower or chainsaw, with the doctor bracing one foot on the exam table and yanking for all he’s worth. Luckily, I was incorrect. I’ve had more difficulty dislodging floss from my teeth.

My doctor, a very slow-speaking, Mr. Rogers sort of man, told me that while chronologically I am 34, my health and lifestyle put me at more like 29 or so. Having a baby, he said, was an excellent idea. If Dr. Mr. Rogers says so, I pretty much have to go for it, right? He also said he wouldn’t be surprised if he saw me back in there in a month or two. With the copper IUD, there’s no residual hormone to clear from my system, so my fertility is right back to normal.

Let the games begin.