Feed Me Seymour!

Okay, I've mentioned the hunger alarm and being ravenous, but I am not sure I can stress enough what I have become: the Maw.



No, seriously: the Maw. I have decided to change the name of this blog for a short while to drive this point home.

The amount of eating I do exhausts me. This does not even include the amount of time I spend thinking about eating or trying to figure out what will appease (never offend!) the Maw.

I am 8 weeks today and you better believe I am counting down to 13 weeks, at which time it is alleged I may go back to some semblance of a non-nauseated, non-maw.

Right now, baby is just over 1/2" long and is using 25% of my blood! (But I am making lots of extra blood for this purpose. At the time of delivery, I will have about 4 extra pounds of blood!) My heart is working very hard to keep up with this extra supply, so that is why I have become such a non-hanger-outer and early bedtime haver.

And I know what you're thinking: this pregnancy business does not sound very palatable. I won't lie: I've been feeling a little low, like there's no light at the end of the tunnel. But know this: not too terribly long from now, I will be snuggling up with my beautiful, perfect baby that my body is making from scratch! What a miracle! That's what I'll keep in mind--that is, when I'm not thinking about my next meal.

Sincerely,
Ma of the Maw