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The Diary of a Waiting Mom

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I am growing each week, today I celebrate my eighth week birthday as we head towards the 39 weeks or so. Yes I am eight weeks pregnant if you are still guessing what I am talking about. There are a few things I am waiting for even as I count down the weeks and wait to finally meet this little being that is growing inside of me.

I am waiting for the nausea to stop, I can’t stand the feeling I get every morning as I prepare for work. I feel like I lose my energy each time and the ability to see sense in the pregnancy. So I will be honest and say that I can’t wait to breathe freely in the morning, I am told it will end soon.

One thing about this journey is the new gifting and ability one attains, maybe it’s just me seeing it that way. However, as much as I would like to be this sensitive with my smelling ability I will be sincere that I can’t stand another strong smell near me.

I look around each time and I wonder what exactly do people wear as perfumes, then there is the early morning body odour as I board the ferry to work that is enough to make me alight in the middle of the journey which will mean swimming across ocean. Lastly, my day gets rounded up as I seat next to my boss whose preference of cigarettes comes close to the smell of pesticides.

Yes I appreciate my new gifting but I need to figure out a way to handle what my nose goes through as my brain registers it and stomach grumbles to it each day.

I long for the day I will love my eggs again, though my mind goes wild even at the mere mention of it. I have enjoyed my egg recipes for years; God knows how I have eaten dozens of them in the past until the day we couldn’t take it anymore. Now I dream have nightmares about eggs as though they were out to choke me to death.

Now I live each moment trying to adjust to the sight of my husband eating eggs. And he on the other side can’t understand why we still have the tray of eggs almost full while entering the second month. From a girl who could eat three eggs a day to one who can’t stand the talk of eggs I will be truthful that this is not what I saw coming.

Then there is fish, being born and raised at the lake side it’s truly unbelievable that now the smell of deep fried fish makes me want to escape to unknown land. I will miss my fish recipes and the sight of my husband’s face as I devour the head of the fish.

As a mother in waiting I can honestly say that this new journey has brought with itself new taste buds and new hate buds (if there is such a word). They say to raise a kid is a hard job; I think the hard job begins at conception. I now have my respects for every expectant mom all over the world. This journey is not for the easily broken hearted or them that want it easy.

Happy Eight weeks to me.

Betty Jacob O is happily married to Vincent Jacob O and they’re expecting at the time of writing this blog post. She is a writer and pens her thoughts on http://the-o-jacobs.blogspot.co.ke/

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