Blueberries, Tofu and Aliens

Last night, we played darts with some friends from the bookstore, like we do most Sunday nights. And I DIDN'T TELL ANYONE. I'm writing this from work, where I am currently, RIGHT THIS MINUTE, not sharing the news. I didn't tell the cashier at Whole Foods, who rung me up for my Mothering. I didn't stop the (visibly) pregnant mother I passed on the street to say, "Me too!"

I said this was going to be hard, right? It is. Although actually, I'm sort of enjoying having this little secret of my own, too. I am in the first steps of trying to fix up my diet, so that it sort of resembles what a preggy woman should eat in order to (a) grow a healthy baby and (b) not gain seventy pounds. My "old" breakfast routine involved getting a mocha with Alice. Then, four hours later, lunch! I generally don't do breakfast. But today, I made a breakfast smoothie!

Orange juice
Yogurt
Soft tofu
Blueberries
Raspberries
Wheat germ
Flax seed

The only thing that's really new to my diet is the tofu, which I'm slightly suspicious of but so far can't taste. The thing is, I've been jonesing for meat since about a week before finding out. Holding the positive test I had a bunch of light-bulb moments, most of which went, "Oh, so THAT'S why..."

like, so THAT'S why I've eaten five roast beef sandwiches in a week. THAT'S why I bought pounds of bacon, sausage, steak and hamburger... not my usual shopping habits! THAT'S whjy everything smells funny! And etc. Yesterday I found a package of raw pork chops highly appealing... they were calling out to be grilled. I'm no nutritionist, but I think craving meat could be a sign that I need more protein, and tofu is high in protein, so I'm incorporating it into breakfast. It doesn't have as much fat and cholesterol as meat or eggs do. Because as Don says, I really shouldn't eat roast-beef sandwiches every day for lunch indefinitely. I brought my lunch from home, too, as much for financial reasons as nutrition. We have to start spending a little less and saving more; bag lunches and home-cooked dinners are a painless way to start.

Don has had a switch flipped in him, I think. He has started talking to 'the baby'. Insisting that we come up with a temporary name so that we can stop calling it 'It'. Reassuring me how happy and exited he is to have a baby coming. Now, he's the one bouncing off the walls and grinning like an idiot. I'm the one raining on his parade, saying things like, "It can't hear you yet, hon, it has no ears. It looks like this. It still has a tail, for crying out loud." And speaking of which? Pictures of fetuses totally freak me out. I love babies. Adore them, actually. But pictures of the unborn disturb me. I just don't think that we were ever psychologically meant to see what a six-week embryo or even a six-month fetus looks like. In fact I think it's why our iconic image of 'Alien from Outer Space' looks so fetal: fetuses are alien to us.

I have promised Don that I will tell him on the very day that our little embryo grows some ears, so that he can start talkin' to the bump. And, we've agreed to call it the Little Hobbit instead of 'It', at least for the time being. And, I've promised to not say things about embryonic tails.