Week 11 ~ September 1, 2005
~ Pregnant Girls Just Want To Have Fun
Well, things are looking up slowly but surely. I'm hoping (oh God, how I am hoping) that we'll be seeing the end of the emotional tumult as I near the end of my first trimester (one more week to go, woohoo!) and settle into the rumoured calmness of the second. My morning sickness is starting to wind down, so long as I remember to eat. Admittedly, I forget sometimes. I'm still exhausted all the time, but that has a lot to do with the chaos of moving, as well as learning to sleep on my left side now when I've always slept on my right, and my fun pregnancy nasal congestion/runny nose/complete and total air blockage - both of which keep me awake at night. The doctor suggested I try this product called Alkolol, which, as I understand it, is some green, spearminty/euchalyptusy liquid that I have to shoot up my nose and into my sinuses, then let it all flush back out. I bought it. I don't have the courage to do it. Suffering the pregnancy pains for little Squirt (the baby) is one thing, but voluntarily shooting some strange concoction up my nose for the sake of sniffles is quite another.
I had the single most exciting night in the weeks since we've moved last night as well. Tired of sitting around in my chaotic, unpacked, disaster of a home, feeling sorry for myself, I woke up from my after work nap, and was determined to do . . . something. When Aaron had stopped in to Corleone's last week, our favourite dive bar and hangout, he had some explaining to do as to my whereabouts. The news having finally been broken to our friends at the bar, Nick, the owner, extended well wishes to me, and told Aaron to tell me that I should still feel more than welcome to stop by some time, and he'd buy me dinner. Previous to our whole baby adventure, Aaron and I had been fixtures on the ultra glamourous (ha) Greeley strip, and were friends with the owners and workers of a couple of the downtown bars, Corleone's included. It had always been a very laid-back environment, a good place to go, have a gin and tonic with lemon, play a game of pool, and torture everyone by putting every early 80s song by Michael Jackson on the jukebox. Along with all of this came a solid group of friends for whom I had felt increasingly homesick. Since becoming so occupied at home in recent months, I had somehow worked it out in my mind that a pregnant woman could never do so much as to set foot inside a bar (the horror), even smoke-free and friendly places such as our beloved dive. But not last night, oh no. I was tired of feeling mopey, tired of not having anyone to talk to when Aaron works at night, and tired of my self-imposed exile from my community. So I bravely did what I had thought so impossible last week: I got up, put on some shoes and went to Corleone's.
Feeling quite smug, it was somewhat of a letdown when the place was nearly empty upon my arrival. None of my usual crew was there. I chatted with Nick, the owner, who immensely enjoyed calling me Big Mama, and bought me an order of their homemade tacos for dinner, and a tea. Still disappointed that none of my other friends were there, I went out to call my girlfriend Chelsea.
All right. Let's introduce Chelsea to the story of my life. Chelsea is a good friend of mine that I met over a year ago now, just when I really needed someone like her to come along. I was lonely, just out of college, my closest, oldest school friend had all gone off and left, and to boot, Aaron and I were apart at the time. Making new friends was an agony, without the cushion and convenience of a classroom, and it became increasingly pathetic to just go to Corleone's and sit alone in some corner. So one day, I went to a different bar, and that's where we met. Chelsea is gorgeous. She is quite literally the black-haired, tattooed Paris Hilton of the Punk/Metal music scene in Northern Colorado. She had mentioned that she was a hairdresser, and I needed a haircut. That's how we met - history in the making. Chelsea is all about the glamour scene, a party girl, and undeniably fabulous. We've had a year of great times, and lots of memories. Now, with my impending domesticity, I had been a bit apprehensive as to how our relationship would change, and the last thing I wanted to do (more feeling sorry for myself) was be some baggage she had to lug around with her on an otherwise fun evening. I hadn't talked to her in several weeks, and not just because I'd been busy.
Turns out, I'm an idiot (did I mention how glad I'll be when the hormones level off???) Chelsea was so thrilled to hear me calling that she could barely get out an invitation to Roma, the pizzeria her boyfriend works at, for laughing so much. Relieved, I went back into the bar to say my goodbyes and head over to meet Chels. Turns out, while I was outside, a couple of my other friends had shown up - Frank the Artist, and Greg the Ridiculously Good Looking Older Man. We got to chatting, I told them how I was now Jennifer the Mommy-To-Be, and everyone was surprisingly supportive and interested. Congratulations were extended all around to Aaron and I, and I left with the big boost in confidence that I needed.
Once at Roma, I located Chelsea, and she literally screamed when she saw me, and gave me a huge hug. Turns out, this whole time, she had wanted to call me too, but was afraid that with everything going on, she'd just be a bother. She was there with my friend Derek, and the three of us talked for an hour about the same baby stuff I had thought would bore her to tears. She's thrilled, and can't wait to be Auntie Chelsea. And, further benefit of having a fabulous friend like her: the gifts. She wants to give the baby her (another vote for a girl) first super glamourous haircut. Also, being a completely obsessive purse buyer, Chels is also adamant that SHE be the one allowed to buy me the most ridiculous, fabulous, and expensive baby purse/diaper bag that she can find on the market. I'm envisioning something with buckles and straps, tooled leather and metal studs. Completely unpractical and totally Chelsea.
When I got home last night, I was happier than I'd been in over a week. Leave it to me to get all worked up about nothing, when all my friends are just as great as I'd always previously suspected. It was a relief to Aaron when I told him about it, too, to see that the old vivacious, social and happy Jennifer he'd always known is starting to reemerge.