Tuesday, March 26, 2019

From the Archives - Hummus

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The other day I noticed it was the 9 year anniversary of announcing I was pregnant to the world via Facebook. You know, the only TRUE way to announce anything. That "On This Day" reminder also wriggled loose the memory of writing the ORIGINAL post for Impressionista when I started it years ago... and then quickly abandoned it.

This post really took me back to all the jittered emotions of realizing I would be a mother. I can smell my old office at Moosejaw, feel the soft material of the couch we bought with our wedding money and see the sea-foam colored walls of our bathroom where I took the pregnancy test.

I'm very proud of this piece and feel fortunate to have captured that time. Enjoy!



All I want is hummus. It's 3am and I'm thinking about the half-full tub of hummus in my fridge. But, I don't have any pita and I polished off the tortilla chips at dinner. Hell, at this point I'll eat it with a spoon, I don't care. Just need that hummus in my belly right now. Ooh, there's that twinge in my abdomen again. It must be from the hummus. Smooth, creamy, garlicky hummus. Mmmmm... floating in a huge bubble made of Bubble Tape gum sitting on a chair made of Faygo bottles eating hummus. I think I fell asleep.

Whoa, that alarm is loud. Definitely don't want hummus for breakfast, so at least I'm not completely crazy. Man, my abdomen feels kind of weird. Not bloated or painful, just... weird. Who knew that eating 4 cups of hummus a day for 3 days can do this to you? I should let a doctor know. Maybe they will name hummus overdose after me. "Did you hear about Trisha? She went to La Shish and now has a severe case of Sheevani..."

Okay, enough with the hummus. What the hell do I have ahead of me today? Oh yeah, work and alone time after work. Paul is in the middle of his 10-day residency that kicked off the EMBA program at the University of Michigan. Have the place to myself, which I do love at times. I really miss him, but there is something about putting in a random disc of Sex and the City and watching the entire thing in stretchy pants. I've done this in front of him too, but I felt really gross the whole time. 

It's one of those days where the thought of the gym is incredibly unappealing. I'm driving home from work and approaching the intersection where if I turn, it's off to the gym I go and if I go straight, my cozy couch awaits. Oh hell, may as well turn. I'll feel better afterwards, I always do. Nice, there are a few elliptical machines open. The gym rush hour is very problematic for elliptical availability, but a lot of people must have opted for their couches like I was going to, so I score an elliptical with the greatest of ease. 

All of the hummus in my body is making me hate this workout. I need to burn my personal requirement of 400 calories. Usually I can get there in 40 minutes, but at this cal/hr rate, I'll be making ellipses with my legs until bedtime. Breathing is difficult, the level of sweat is inappropriate and I have a scowl that is offending the beefcakes at the bench press machines. Maybe I'll just do 20 minutes and eat a light dinner. No no no, I always suffer during the first few minutes, but then I pull through and feel great. Besides, I know I'll be attacking so much hummus when I get home, so let me try and burn off at least half of what I'm about to shovel in my face. 

The green LED numbers turn to 400 calories and I let out an audible sigh as if I just finished an Iron Man Triathlon. I see the time, 53:26. Wow, it's never taken me this long to get through my workout. And I still have weights! No way, I'll do them after my hummus feast... I'm probably just hungry. Why do my legs feel like lead? I hope I'm not getting sick. I've already called in fake sick this month, so a legit call would make it seem like I was faking. It's all very complicated. 

The nightly call from Paul is short like the rest of them. He sounds exhausted and overwhelmed at all the work ahead of him. He feels this residency is as much a psychological test as academic. I say that he's super tough and can handle it. I'm not bullshitting either, he really can handle it. I, on the other hand, would have caved after the first day. Who the hell are we kidding? If I applied for the Executive MBA program at the University of Michigan, they would have called for an interview just to laugh and ceremoniously burn the application in my face. Don't mistake me for insecure, I'm just a realist. Love loads of things about myself, but none of them are even remotely about my prowess in academia. For example, I make killer nachos, but there's no Masters Degree for that. 

Sigh, I really do feel yucky. Oh, and there are the cramps. Ding ding ding!! My period is coming, that's why I feel like this! The symptoms are just more intense this time around. Probably because my body is adjusting to getting off birth control. That's right, there is nothing stopping this lady from getting pregnant! I was hoping to get it over with before the start of Paul's program, but these cramps indicate that we have not succeeded. Oh well, it was the first month of trying. I'm a bit disappointed... patience has never been my strongest trait. Paul will have to schedule some hump time between work and school, that's just how it's going to be until we get this baby made. 

I peel myself off the couch, throw away the empty tub of hummus and make my way to bed. I'm so groggy, I run into the door jamb boob first. OUCH. These jugs are really sore this time around. PMS must get worse after 30. As if the slowing metabolism isn't bad enough. My eyes are already closed and I haven't even pulled the covers off the bed. I am so tired. Oh, and I'm pretty sure it's not even 8:30.

As my eyes open, the cramps are a bit more intense. I think about the date and whether this period is on time or not. It's so hard to tell since the adjustment post-birth control has messed up my cycle. I wasn't even sure we were having all the sex at the correct times, but figured the more, the better. Hubba hubba. Oh well, my bod is loudly telling me that period will be here soon, so I'll run out at lunch and get supplies. 

I'm staring at a boring spreadsheet when my co-worker announces she is expecting twins in August. I'm very happy for her, but surprisingly overwhelmed with sadness that it's not me. Not sure I want twins, but I do want to be pregnant. Alas, my sore ta-tas and uterus are telling me I'm not even close to pregnant, and almost on cue, the PMS emotions are starting as well. I choke down tears as I leave for Target to pick up the damn period products. Ironically, the pregnancy tests are very close to the products needed when you're opposite of pregnant. They mock each other under the bright retail lights. I figure I should pick up a few tests to use next month and after, if needed. 

The call with Paul this evening is filled with tears of disappointment. My supportive husband is clearly distracted by his mountain of schoolwork, but is remarkably patient with my complaining and reassures me, "We'll get there... it's only the first month." I agree. He has to go; his group is waiting to start their project. I say how much I miss him and wish I could hug him right now. We hang up and I look at the calendar on my phone to calculate the days since my last period. It's easy to remember since I had started on Christmas Day. It was a Holiday Period. Hmm, I guess I'm about 5 days late. Weird... but, I'm positive my period will arrive within the next few hours. I've been having a period for 18 years, I know when it's coming. 

Well, I should just rule it out, right? At the very least I'll practice how to take a pregnancy test. I mean, I've taken 3 before, all of which were HUGE reliefs when they came up negative. A baby on the MSU campus wasn't ideal. But... let's just confirm. I'm peeing on the stick and shaking my head because I'm totally wasting this expensive test. My period is probably just late because I'm stressing about getting pregnant. Whatever, I've peed on the stick... now I wait for the answer I already know.

Since I'm not frugal when it comes to pregnancy tests, I had purchased the one with the digital readout because I don't trust blue or pink lines. My heart is pounding so hard as I wait. It's been 47 seconds and I cannot take it anymore. I lean over and glance at the test. My breath catches and I feel dizzy.


I freeze with my mouth agape for a few seconds. I'm startled back to reality by the drool falling over my bottom lip. I blink a few times in case my eyes are playing tricks, but nope. There it is. My hands are shaking as I pick up the test to get a better view. This is a defective test... it must be. I can feel my period coming, I swear. Ugh, I wasted money on this janky digital test! I better take another one. 

Okay, I guess this is for real. I stare at myself in the mirror, looking at a pregnant woman shaking her head in disbelief. I feel both numb and exhilarated at the same time. How should I tell Paul? He won't be home for another 2 days and I definitely cannot wait that long. Group project, my ass, he needs to know he impregnated me! He answers on the 3rd ring with a muted greeting. I blurt it out.

Neither of us know what to say. He is happy, I am happy. We keep the conversation short and say, "I love you." I look back at myself in the mirror.

Here we go... life will never be the same.


And it wasn't. 

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