Do I seem pregnant to you?" I asked this afternoon.
I
also asked the same question this morning, this evening and about 65
other times in the last twenty-four hours. I feel like a total idiot
admitting this but not not trying to get pregnant is turning me
into a preganoid weirdball. On Superbowl Sunday I took one sip of beer
and "OH GOD! What if I'm pregnant. No! I can't! I shouldn't!"
Because
what if I'm pregnant, you know? Of course, there's a good chance, I'm
not. We're not really doing anything trying-to-get-pregnant people are
doing. No post coital handstands or rocking my ass above my head, Big
Lebowski style. No testing my ovulation. No all-day marathon sex. Just
the occasional boot-knock-sesh and "goodnight!"
Except for some reason, I have become the girl who cried PREGNANT, assuming that I must be pregnant at all times, even though I have a good week before I would even think to take a test.
"But my tits are HUGE!"
(Plth.) "Sorry! I'm so gassy right now."
"I feel nauseous! Wait... Never mind. Actually! Wait! Yes, I feel sick, again! I swear!"
"Did
you get that baby name list email I sent you yesterday. To me choice #1
is a no-brainer. But in the case of twins, perhaps we should have two
choices for each sex, doncha think?"
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