Then there were the cravings and aversions. I’m not militant about my diet, but Internets, it was a little distressing to go off coffee, chocolate, alcohol, and cheese all at the same time. Not because I wouldn’t have had them, but because I didn’t want them, and experienced (and am still experiencing) the strongest aversions in my life. So my diet for the past three months has consisted of whatever I think I can keep down, and it seems to mainly consist of Cheerios, Eggos with real butter and boysenberry syrup, fresh fruit, and my mom’s kick-ass Gravenstein applesauce. And occasionally a prenatal vitamin, when I can get one down. (Speaking of horses, have you seen those fucking pills? Do the manufacturers not understand how the sight of one of those brick-sized supplements triggers nausea in a pregnant woman even faster than the thought of a moldy cheese sandwich?)

But there have been some good parts that range from okay to jaw-dropping. Finding out we were pregnant can be filed under jaw-droppingly happy: I took about four home pregnancy tests that were so slightly positive that I thought them to be inconclusive, so I finally went to a clinic for confirmation. Joy. Finally telling the family and friends was also more fun than it probably should have been, thanks to the rampant skepticism on the part of, oh, everyone. (I believe my mother-in-law’s reaction was one of the best: “Seriously? Really? Seriously? On purpose?”)

Another pleasant development has been how great The Husband has been about everything, although it’s not surprising because he’s generally awesome: He’s cooked and cleaned and held my hair back and gone to the store at 10:30 p.m. for grapes, and he talks to my belly, even though I don’t think the baby can hear yet (which is probably a good thing because he once played Ziltoid for it, the poor fetus).

On a related note, I understand the shock and surprise many of you felt at our announcement, and I will admit to decent amounts of guilt for misleading you all, especially if I said anything over the past X months about “never having children.” It’s just that when we changed our minds, we didn’t know what the future held, didn’t know if we would actually have the baby we wanted, and therefore didn’t want change any expectations. A self-preservation thing, you see. But it was totally worth it for the looks on your faces when we finally did announce our news. And that guilt? It’s not weighing too heavily on my mind.