Breaking news.....

Alright, here's the deal. I haven't been blogging because some big things have been happening behind the scenes here in Coutsoftides-land and I've been both preoccupied and unwilling to talk about all of it.

But the time has come. I'm tired of the secrets, the lies, the avoiding my blog because I know I'm a big bean-spiller and there just isn't any way for me to write about anything else when all of this is going on.

I'm pregnant.

Whew, that feels better.

See, the problem is, I'm only five weeks and three days pregnant, so I shouldn't actually be telling you for seven more weeks about this. HOWEVER, as any of you who know me personally can attest, if there is something going on in my personal life that I can mine for laughs or sympathy, I'm probably going to tell everyone the minute I can.

Also, Tony has been telling everyone, from our close friends to a guy we've just started doing business with who doesn't know anything about us other than we own a business and we are pregnant. Awesome. So I figure you'll find out sooner or later anyhow.

Finally, if something bad does happen (which I'm sure it won't) I know I'd write about it here, so there is no sense in keeping it a secret any longer.

The irony of the situation (because you know there has to be irony in any situation involving me) is that I found out I was pregnant less than a week before we opened our business and I'm due the same week we are planning to open larger, much more time-intensive operations. Go me! So I'm sitting here at my computer, nodding off at 9 a.m., struggling with heartburn, leg cramps and bizarre food cravings (sauerkraut, anyone?) while trying to learn an entirely new business model from the ground up.

And let's talk a little about the "miracle" of pregnancy, shall we? You all know that Tony and I have been trying to get pregnant for the better part of a year, which in no way lessens the "HOLY CRAP" moment when there are two bars on the pregnancy test instead of the usual one. After that moment, and the ensuing two days of hysteria waiting for my chance to go to the doctor's office for confirmation (I was convinced they were going to tell me it was imaginary and send me home), the first-trimester symptoms set in.

Seriously, I've become the seven dwarfs of pregnancy - sleepy, grumpy, bloaty, gassy, weepy, clumsy and hungry. (I am also the four horseman of the pregnancy apocalypse - Craving, Heartburn, Exhaustion and Abdominal Cramp.) Thankfully, I haven't really had any morning sickness yet (although that's supposed to start this week, so wish me luck!), but might mean I'm having a boy, which would be an utter disappointment and I may have to make the baby live in the back yard. I'M KIDDING! He could stay in the basement.

Anyhow, I've read What to Expect When You're Expecting 35 million times by now and there are some things they don't tell you about pregnancy that are important to know.

1. Yeah, yeah, they tell you that you might get food cravings and aversions. What they don't tell you is that it can change your whole perception of yourself, and not necessarily for the better. For instance, I've always been a sweets girl. I love cookies, candies, cakes, ice cream, chocolate sauce, baking chocolate, raw sugar, you name it. Yeah, well, not since Junior set up camp in my uterus. Now, the smell of the bakery at the grocery store sends me running for the bathroom. I bought a brownie sundae last night and only ate HALF of it and that was a struggle. I have thrown away more ice cream in the past week than I have in my entire life, and it HURTS, people. Now all I want to eat are ham sandwiches and french fries, which Tony won't let me eat. (The french fries. I can have as many ham sandwiches as I want. Yesterday it was three. Don't judge me.)

2. Pregnancy hurts. Between the heartburn, the ginormous boobs and the gas that shows up out of nowhere to blow up your stomach to Ethiopian proportions, you think that would be enough. But no! For the past three nights, I've been waking up with abdominal cramps and lower-back pain strong enough to send me into a whimpering pile on the floor. Which is terrifying and apparently COMPLETELY NORMAL. Really? Really? I'm just supposed to deal with feeling like I'm having either the onset of the worst period of my life or amoebic dysentery every day for the NEXT TWO MONTHS. Super.

3. The weepies. Now, I understand that some people might categorize me as "emotional" even on the best day. I cry, I get angry, I know. However, yesterday, I scraped my elbow on the railing and howled like a four-year-old who just fell off the monkey bars and broken a limb. Tony thought I'd impaled myself and was bleeding to death. The day before that, I was in Home Depot looking at home decorating books for children's rooms and started to sob. I seem to fluctuate between homicidal rage and the urge to cuddle the person I've just killed with alarming frequency. And the rest of the time, I'm just crying. I've given up on mascara altogether and am adopting a more natural look, as to prevent the Courtney Love look I was cultivating.

4. You become a slave to your own body. Being the owner of a pregnant body is a lot like being the husband of a pregnant woman in a television sitcom. One minute, everything is fine, the next BAM! You need to do something RIGHT NOW to make everything better. And by the time you do that, something else is necessary. For instance, food. I wake up in the morning hungry for something in particular. Today, it was apple juice. However, by the time I walked downstairs, I wanted french fries. Once I opened the fridge, I really wanted some cottage cheese, but once the carton was in my hand, toast sounded better. Then there are the physical symptoms that blast in out of nowhere. I'll be sitting quietly at my desk when a tummy growl is followed immediately by the type of stomach bloat that makes you hurt up into your neck, and NOTHING makes it feel better. Not even walking, followed by laying on the floor while your husband rubs your distended stomach. At times, I just want to look at this foreign entity that used to be my body and shout, "WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME? I'LL DO ANYTHING, ANYTHING, JUST TELL ME WHAT TO DO!" At that point, you can almost hear your body laughing at you, cruelly.

So yeah, pregnancy is awesome and crappy all at the same time.

And now I need a snack, a nap, a snuggle and a gun.