as in me, the flake. I have not been commenting on your blogs. I have not been posting here.

The situation is not much better at home. Yes, I am fulfilling my duties. I’m hosting book club meetings, doing what’s expected of me as room parent and new parent ambassador at school, showing up at yoga classes and swimming every other morning, feeding and listening to the kids, but when I have time, look out. Where’s the bed?!!! I get in bed, furious at the world because I hate sleeping on my left side, and also because sleeping really doesn’t make me feel better.

A few nights ago Rachel had a dream that I was driving her Dad’s car and fell asleep. I drove right into the garage. This dream is ripe with symbolism, but I couldn’t feel sad about it. She was right. If I had to to take the wheel of this family all on my own right now, I’d fail miserably. I’d sleep.

You see, I have something growing inside of me.

Excuse me, while I show you my uterus.

it looks like it’s wearing one of those sad masks, doesn’t it? Or like an unhappy Casper the Ghost.

She or he is due in late April. I’m about 8.5 weeks pregnant.

I really dislike pregnancy. Dislike as in “there is a voice screaming inside of me every day saying ‘I hate pregnancy.” The thing is, I think the hormones in the first trimester are all geared to make your brain reject the baby. Honestly, it has happened every single pregnancy with me. I get slightly depressed and the thought of motherhood at all makes me nauseous. I feel weary and pregnancy seems just not fair. This is how I feel for at least the first 13-14 weeks of every pregnancy.

But when the baby comes, I don’t get depressed. At least, I haven’t yet. I actually get a weird adrenelin high that lasts about six months, off and on. Go figure.

I am not used to feeling bleh. Normally, I am pretty in control of how I feel. I am used to enjoying life and feeling good. Feeling bleh drives me nuts. I’m counting down. Six more weeks of feeling bleh. Please be patient with me.

But theoretically, rationally, I am happy, very happy. This is something that I wanted, that I want–a family of five. I just kind of thought it wouldn’t happen to me. I mean supposedly a woman my age ovulates like twice a year. And since both my hubs and wanted but were also scared to have a third, we were not buying ovulation predictors or anything. We wanted a third, but we were terrified, so I suppose we weren’t trying very hard. We were just leaving it up to the fates, and not trying NOT to get pregnant. But perhaps this is too much information.

Let’s review:

I have two kids.
I am 39 years old.
I am pregnant.
And I have braces.

Pregnant with braces at 39. Let’s pretend I don’t have braces, okay? It’s just too weird.

But yes, that unhappy looking baby in my uterus is a good thing. A very good thing.

And I really am grateful.