coke deals, spitcans, and peacocks.

Good morning, Viet Nam!!!
Ok, so it's nearly noon, but I basically just crawled out of bed, so it's still morning to me. Somehow, I feel well enough to sit down at the laptop in the floor in front of the tv to update the blog. Of course I'm planning to throw in a bunch of pregnancy rambles, so hang with me and I will try to touch on some other topics, too.
Today I have another OB appointment, and if all goes well, Derick will get to join. This will be his first appointment, so I'm excited and hoping they do an ultrasound so that he can see our tiny angel baby. I'm hoping a little more that somehow they will be able to tell us if we are having a b or g because I am so ready to decide on decorations and items! We have our names chosen, pretty much, but we're waiting to get the news before sharing with everyone. I guarantee that they are adorable! Speaking of adorable, let me stop right here and say WELCOME TO THE WORLD, BABY CARTER METCALF! One of my best friends (whom I grew to love during the magical journey of TBS), Shannon, had her beautiful boy last week. He is so precious, and I can't wait to meet him as soon as possible! I remember giving Shannon a hard time (about several things) but especially about having a baby. She talked like she would be a rotten mother, but one day I saw her holding our friend Michaela's baby, Annabelle, and I thought, "wow. She's going to be a great mom." A few months after that, she held our other friend Beth's baby, Emmett, and I was once again convinced. As always, I was right because Shannon is definitely a wonderful mother!
Anyway, back to my own weird ramblings. My sickness is still lingering around, haunting me from time to time. I've heard it should be gone by now (considering at least one of the doctors were right about my due date, I should be nicely into my second trimester) but I'm fearing that I may be one of those women whose sickness "unfortunately sticks with them throughout the duration of their pregnancy." I am feeling much better than the previous weeks, when my pukiness was constant. Now, it comes and goes throughout the day, but it is definitely still hanging out. What may be worse, dare I say, is the ptyalism. I am not at all joking when I say I carry a double-bagged trashcan with me from room to room because my mouth fills with spit faster than I can spit it out. Ask my family. Carrying the trashcan is almost as gross as spitting into it. It's so full of spit that it sort of sloshes around in there, similar to that feeling you get when you drink way too much water too quickly and it feels like there's a small lake inside of you. It's disgusting, so I try to change out my bags as often as possible. This morning, I was in between awake and asleep and I started to think about the spit and how our trash contribution will be full of spit bags this week. Then I imagined the bags getting ripped and my spit covering all the other trash in the garbage truck. Then I imagined a murdered body in the truck and getting framed for murder because my DNA was all over the dead body. I thought of elaborate ways to prove my innocence by showing the police my current spit cans and my previous blog posts declaring my condition to the world.
Moving on...I have a confession and some of my close friends may have to pick their jaw up off the floor when they read this. I haven't had sodas in years, and when I say sodas, I mean the "hard stuff" like Coke, DP, Mr. Pibb, Mt. Dew, etc. I drink caffeine free stuff, like Sprite and Root Beer from time to time, but I still try to limit my intake of those. Other than the whole addiction/unhealthy aspect of sodas, Derick quit drinking them cold turkey about four years ago (maybe longer), so I really just jumped on board with him, and I have to say I think it was the best thing I've ever done. I am convinced I would easily weigh 200 pounds if I still drank sodas like I did during our first year of marriage. It feels good not to depend on drinks like that. I know a lot of people who say that they "just must have a soda." And I believe them. If you go so long drinking them, it's kind of hard to stop. I don't think I was ever highly affected by the caffeine because I was always a little rambunctious anyway, but I LOVED the taste of a cold Coke, so those were hard to put down. It's also nice not spending money on those drinks. I'm getting on a high horse here, but I hate spending money on things that do nothing but harm your body. There are so many things like that, and you can go through my freezer on any given day and argue this same thing with me because of the ice cream we usually keep in there. But, hands down, it is nice to just skip the soft drink isle without even blinking. Those things can get expensive! Anyway, here's the confession: while I was in Arkansas, I had two or three days when I felt well enough to go on a short walk or play with my nieces and nephew. But other than that, I was down for the count. I was puking a lot, and I couldn't eat much at all, nor could I drink anything. It's weird to explain. I was so thirsty, but the thought of any drink made my stomach turn. I tried water, juice, milk, a slush. Everything! But nothing hit the spot, and I was obviously dehydrated. I would go all day barely taking a few sips of juice and eating only a few ice cubes. Not good. One night, I told my Dad about the issue and he said I should try a Diet Coke (which is what he drinks and keeps the house stocked with). He told me that sometimes they help his upset stomach, and though he's never had the same upset stomach issues that I was dealing with, I was ready to try anything. He opened a caffeine free Diet Coke (this story is sounding more and more like a gateway drug story) and I took a sip. It didn't hit the spot, but it didn't make me sick either. During the time I was with my parents, I took a few sips of Diet Coke when I was feeling really sick, and sometimes it helped, sometimes it didn't. Well, a lot of people have told me to eat/drink whatever and whenever I can, especially when I am feeling weak and dehydrated. So two days ago, I really really wanted a regular Coke, in a bottle. The bottle is the best kind, and I'm talking glass bottle. I wouldn't drink it any other way. Well, Derick came home from the store yesterday with the goods: ice cream, pickles, pot pies, juice, ginger ale, and, you guessed it, Coke in a bottle. He was showing me my new gifts one by one, and when he showed me the Coke, it was just a tiny glass bottle. I'd assumed he just bought one, and one was enough. I was so thirsty, and water and juice was no longer cutting it. So I have been saving my glass Coke until I really, really needed it. Last night, I was able to eat a little rice and beans from his enchilada dinner, so I didn't think my body was too famished. This morning, though, I woke up when he did (around 0500) and felt terribly sick. I took a pill, ate some oatmeal and went back to sleep. When I woke up, I had to have a drumstick (the frozen, dairy kind), and what better to wash it down with than my glass bottle Coke?! I opened the fridge, and much to my surprise, not one, but an entire six-pack of tiny glass bottles smiled right back at me. I drank a swig of one, and put it back in the fridge to save for another day, but I went right back and convinced myself it was ok to have the whole thing. See, those little devils are addictive!! I'm saving the other five for a really, really rainy day.
I feel guilty because if caffeine is so horrible for me, how bad can it be for our baby? I'm leaning on the advice to drink whatever/whenever I can, and I know that for the past month or so, I haven't been eating or drinking the way an expectant mother should. Still, I don't want our baby coming out all loco. I mean, look at what a tiny bottle of Coke can do to me--I've been rambling non-stop!! This post is probably a mile long!
I know I could be doing a lot worse and putting really horrible things in my body, but that is not a motto I embrace or appreciate: "I could be doing a lot worse." I think it's a cop-out, because I could also be doing a lot better. I'll shut up about Coke and pregnancy, for now.

Derick had to wear his deserts today, and I have to say that those uniforms are by far better than the woodlands. I appreciate the woodlands because Derick was wearing those the first time I saw him in uniform, but nothing can beat the deserts. Unless a rule is made that restricts Marines from rolling the sleeves. A lot of Marine wives are right on board with me on this one. Were any of you up early enough to see the difference the rolled sleeves can make? I'm pretty sure my half asleep pregnancy brain told Derick, "those look goofy now." Maybe we should sign a petition to bring back the rolled sleeves.

This week, my goal is to hit the gym at some point. If I feel better, that is. There is a pregnancy fitness class on base, and now that I'm showing a little bit, I feel more comfortable joining. I have to do something, though. I do not want to be a tub of lard in nine months. I think of my friends, Beth and Michaela, who looked incredible during their pregnancies. Beth wore a bikini while she was eight months pregnant, and she looked way better than I ever have! My goal is to look half as good as Beth, then I will consider buying the peacock bikini from Forever21 that Kelsey insists I purchase:


Now, just imagine a giant belly and week-long unshampooed hair, and I pretty much fit the picture. (Speaking of picture, I do not own this picture, nor am I affiliated with Forever21 in anyway.) Just in case!