The toughest fight you will ever have...

...is trying to get an orgasm during the first trimester of your pregnancy.

(Now I know my mother will one day read this...but momma I'm married, so technically all is righteous in the eyes of the Lord! Amen!)

So anyway, of all the changes that happen to your body during the first trimester of your pregnancy, the biggest victim by far is your libido and your poor husband (by default). Every woman's body is different so I don't want to speak for all women, but I certainly didn't want anything to do with no penis, no balls, or no more sperm during my first weeks of pregnancy. Yet, because my husband only sees glowing skin and bigger breasts, he was always ready for action like everything was business as usual. I was able to escape my first few weeks of pregnancy without having sex but then my husband began to look so pitiful that I made up my mind that I was going to rock his world one day when he got home from work.

As soon as he walked through the door I said, "Come on PACO...let's have sex!" and my poor battered husband sheepishly said "You don't mean it!" and just turned and walked into the kitchen.

So I dug deep and channeled that 18-year old sex kitten that was deep inside me and went into the kitchen, gave him a look, and pulled him straight into our bedroom.

(Details omitted!)

After lots of steaminess, and after my husband was fast asleep, I snuck into the bathroom and found "Bono" because I knew that I wouldn’t be able to fall asleep until I try to find my elusive orgasm. After initiating sex, I realized how much I missed the BIG "O" and was truly determined to find it again before the night was over.

Thirty-five minutes later, I was sweating and out of breath and the BIG "O" had not come to visit me yet. I tried to meditate. I even tried to pray. But after burning close to 600 calories and talking to Jesus, God, and Mary Magdelene it still didn't come.

I sadly went back to the bedroom, where my husband was snoring away. I slipped in the bed next to him and kissed him on his nose and counted approximately 346 sheep until I fell asleep.

Praying for a path, a purpose, and a career away from politicians...

Before I began working at my current job at a non profit, I worked for the State of Illinois, consulted for the City of Chicago, and researched for a think-thank of business and civic leaders in the City. While each job brought with it it own share of pros and cons, it's probably fair to say that I deeply and sincerely hated each one. The State of Illinois government is just as illegal as most of the world thinks it is...so much so that people don't even know when they are doing something illegal. The city operates a little bit differently, we are "lucky" enough to live under a one party system of "Daleydemocrats" and everyone who is supposed to be asking questions on behalf of Chicago's residents usually don't -- and the Chicago machine continues to chug away. People in Chicago and Illinois know that our politicians are inherently corrupt but as long as the garbage continues to get picked up everyday -- most people are willing to look the other way.

So I became jaded. And in hopes of finding myself, and my passion, and my purpose, I sought to find a wholesome, fulfilling job and ended up working for an inspiring politician (which is the only thing worse than a real politician).

So here I am pregnant, working for a coon, at an organization with no real benefits on the corner of "don't get shot" and "don't get robbed." Though I've always considered myself an achiever - where I find myself right now just doesn't seem to make sense. After 6 years of schooling and 5 years of work, I have no desire to do what I am currently doing. More than that, I cant believe that I am 29 years old and that I still don't know what I want to do when I grow up.

...So everyday, with hormones raging I enter into the mice-infested office and wonder what the he*ll I was thinking by deciding to take this job and pondering what lesson could God possibly be trying to teach me.

What sucks the most is that I have to "announce my pregnancy" to my director and the alderman, who is the Chairman of our Board, which seems dumb considering I didn't have to ask for their permission to have sex or get pregnant. Moreover, I don't want to tell them and then they create a maternity plan for me and in the end, I'll HAVE to come back after the baby is born   

Which leads me to this - at some point I think every woman panics when she finds out that she is pregnant. Even with the most secure job, in the most profitable industry, when a woman becomes pregnant the weight of becoming responsible for another life hits you like a ton of bricks. Because you want to provide the best way of life for your child, you have no choice but to evaluate yourself and your life in effort to become the best YOU for another living being. When embarking upon this road, it's scary (at least it has been for me) because suddenly nothing seems certain or clear and you wonder how in the world things are all going to come together. But in that very moment, if you allow it, I believe that God speaks to us.

I think that expression "God protects babies and fools" attempts to explain God's preference in helping people who recognize their own inability to help themselves. Perhaps this is why God often is most visible in our most vulnerable moments of our lives -- to remind us that when we try to do things our own way, we are merely getting in his way.  In those moments, we are more willing to "see" him and let him take the reigns of our situations and our lives.

What if this baby thing is one bad case of gas??

In the movies, a woman sees a plus sign in the plastic applicator and is ecstatic. She jubilantly tells her husband when he walks through the door with groceries that, "WE'RE PREGNANT!" The husband, without thinking, drops everything, picks up the wife, and swings her around with her hair flowing in the air. Once he stops swinging her in happiness, he looks her in her eyes and says, "I HOPE OUR DAUGHTER LOOKS JUST LIKE YOU!" They then make love or take a bubble bath while eating chocolate covered strawberries and picking out names. The next day, the couple goes to the doctor and the doctor performs an ultrasound where the fully membered baby kicks and even smiles for a picture to be taken by the doctor for his parents keepsakes.

I've seen this story play out so many times in films and I was convinced something was wrong when my husband resorted to drinking Bailey's on the couch, steadily shaking his head only repeating, "You're pregnant?"

Similarly, there was no ultrasound to confirm the pregnancy, nor any picture with the fetus smiling for the camera the next day, the next week, or even the week after next. Instead, to my shock, I had to wait 6 weeks until my first ultrasound and believe it or not, that's alot of time for your head to start playing games with you.

Despite the chocolate fudge sundaes, falling asleep by 6:00pm, daydreams of hiring someone to put my boss into a drug-induced coma, and big ole' breasts to top it all off, when the night before my first doctor's appointment finally came I was scared out of my mind.

'What if this has been a bad case of gas?' I thought as I tossed and turned with insomnia.  My mother and father would be so sad. Surely, an announcement would have to go into the church bulletin.

'What if something happened to the baby?' I thought as I considered that maybe all those chocolate fudge sundaes weren’t so good for the baby after all.

The last night before my first ultrasound was a sleepless one, but for the first time I realized that I began to care for this little being that I couldn't see or touch, but believed was growing somewhere within me.

The next day when Pat and I went to the OB/GYN, the appointment was full of insurance, blood, and taking down numbers (plenty of which I had no interest in knowing due to my very satisfying but very unhealthy chocolate fudge sundae diet.)

When it was time for the ultrasound, I could tell that Patrick was just as nervous as I was. Suddenly,  before our very eyes we saw our little baby for the first time. To be honest, the baby actually looked like a teddy graham cracker floating at the top of lake which initially made me nervous because there was no arms, no knees, no legs, and definitely no face distinguishable enough to smile for a picture. But when Pat and I heard the heart beating for the first time, silence and joy simply filled the room.

When the cocker spaniel and the Boss start to piss you off...

Nothing can prepare you for the changes that you undergo while being pregnant. Of everything that I've experienced thus far, I can say that the one thing that shocked me the most are the mood swings and hormonal fluctuations that you experience from a minute to minute basis.

Early on, EVERYTHING and I mean EVERYTHING pissed me off. If you were a kid I wondered why the heck you were so small and midgety. If you were really and genuinely piss-off worthy (like my boss) then I wanted to kill you (seriously). (Sorry Jesus.)

If my husband told me not to eat a chocolate fudge sundae then I wanted to tell him just go somewhere and lift some weights for both of us because (at the moment) I would choose the sundae over him if I had a choice.
(Sorry Pat.)

Now the insanity that I was feeling wouldn't be healthy in the best situation but I just so happen to be in a dead-end job with an arrogant and pretentious bullsh*ter who thinks because he was the Executive Director of a two person not-for-profit that he doesn't have to do any work. I can't decide which makes my situation worst, the fact that I foresaw how much I wouldn't like this job before I left my last job or the fact that I let him convince me that this opportunity was the best opportunity that any young policy professional could ask for.

The job started out great for about a month and a half and in retrospect I think it was really the joy of the holidays that made me think that I was content. I'd sit in meetings while he spoke about grand plans to bring new industry into the disinvested community in which we located, then I'd hear him talk about plans to redevelop the southside community and would be inspired. I wondered practical questions like "where are we going to get the money to redevelop Washington Park into a Central Park-like attraction?" or "I wonder which political officials gave us the okay to move ahead on these plans?" but I initially assured myself that surely any man who spoke with this amount of promise and certainty had this figured out. Yet slowly but surely after each "election speech" that he gave, I noticed that he'd ask me to develop the plan to implement his far-flung dreams and that the words that came out of his mouth were based on nothing more than his flights of fancy and political wetdreams that he'd been having since high school.

Initially, I embraced developing the plans for his "INNOVATIVE" AND "ENTERPRISING" ideas, but after hearing him promise everything from millions to dollars into the neighborhood to a new trolley system that would roll through the "hood", I began to call bullshit. For one, I didn't want to be associated with someone who was a snake-oil salesman and two, I didn't want to do the work for something he had no plans in seeing  through to implementation.

Daily, I hoped that my boss would end up in a non-life threatening coma that would render him helpless until my due date in October. But to no avail, everyday he'd slump into the office at 11:00am and sit in his office, go for numerous smoke breaks, surf the web until he left at 4:30pm.

Everything came to a head when I developed a workplan for a community garden initiative and while sitting in a meeting he told the group how he'd reflected long to come up with a plan for the gardens. Don't get me wrong, I'm all for "we" and "our" and "us" lingo that naturally comes along with being apart of an organization but its another thing entirely when a bastard begins to take full credit for your work.

Slowly his misrepresentation of my work increased and I soon realized that his lack of integrity permeated into his dealings with other organizations in the community -- organizations that we were supposed to be helping.

Soon people from every organization in the community began to confide in me that my boss had claimed the successes of their organization's work in the past. All I was left wondering was how could someone who was so young develop such a reputation as being a butthole. I mean, I assumed that it took years for people to develop that type of engrained bullsh*tability, no?

Obviously not...

So here I was working for the devil and my skin truly begins to crawl whenever he walks past. Even when he asked where I went to church I hesitated to respond because I didn't want to witness anybody bursting into flames in the sanctuary - no matter how awful of a person that they are.

So walking into the office everyday has become more and more of a struggle. I'm going to revival at my church everyday this week, I begin yoga next week, and I am just going to hope and pray that I don't catch a case.

The Earliest Signs of Pregnancy Suck...

When most women find out that they are pregnant it's nothing like what you see in movies. By the time you see that plus sign, you've been sleeping all day, your breasts feel like 10 pound water bottles and it's a good chance that you've been throwing up all your favorite meals for at least a week.

For me, most of my first trimester was a blur. I was hungry all day every day. I was nauseous all day every day. And the only thing I wanted to eat was food with tomato sauce and plenty of salt. I was sleep by the time "Wheel of Fortune" came on. And sex -- the real culprit in the whole fiasco - was of little interest to me. 

While I am grateful to say that I am one of the lucky few to not have morning sickness, that unfortunately didn't keep me from feeling like I wanted to throw up everything I ate. Previous foods that I once loved like tilapia, shrimp, lobster, and crab repulsed me and after my first month I took refuge in the one food that was sure to settle my stomach - a chocolate fudge sundae from McDonald's.

Other changes soon affected my body and nothing in my natural life could have prepared me for how fast and how big my breasts became in a matter of two months.  I know most women would joyfully embrace this increased voluptuousness around the bustline but not me!  I already had bigger breasts than most people's  grandmothers and I was in no need of any additional busty blessings from God.

My breasts are so big that they can no longer be called breasts -- they are simply "Watermelons." When I walk down the street and hear people whisper, "Dag, that woman shole' do' have some big ole' titties" I can't be mad cause it's true.   Even family and associates greet me with the same congratulatory line, "Girl, I knew it was something cause those titties shole' are big!"

While the size of my breasts and growing waistline (due to the chocolate fudge sundaes not the baby) have began to get me down, I have briefly wondered ways that I could make money off of them. I hate my job and have began contemplating if I could start selling wholesale breast milk to Haitian orphans or perhaps I could pose as a "orthopedic bra model"??  Considering that my breasts are becoming the "Eight and Ninth Wonders of the Natural World," it seems only fair that they should begin to make me some money!

How do you say, "Hello, I'm knocked up!"

The Preggo Woman's Bible, "What To Expect When You're Expecting" recommends not telling anyone outside of your husband and a few family members that you are pregnant until after you have reached your second trimester. Initially this seemed doable but after two days of keeping the news to ourselves, I started to feel extremely guilty keeping such a HUGE event from my family and closest friends.

So one by one we began to make the calls...

First, we confirmed the pregnancy to my sister whose first words were "I'm going to start praying for this child now."

Next, we told my mother who I made promise not to tell anyone in her Red Hat Retirement Club, Prayer Circle, or even my daddy until I was ready.

Then came my brother...who asked was it a reptilian or hermaphrodite that was growing inside of me.

We finally told my father...who pretended to pass out when I told him. When he woke up he started to write down potential birth dates for him to play in the lottery.

After that came my mother in-law...who told me not to worry about anything but to give the baby to God and trust that God would take care of the rest.

Next came my father in-law...who said he'd been dreaming of fishing recently so he wasn't surprised.

And finally we told my sisters in-law...who prepped Pat on the weight gain and mood swings that were sure to come.

When it came to telling friends I proceeded with a bit more caution. I decided that I'd only call friends who been there to pray with me and for me because Lord knows that I didn't know where to begin to figure out how to become a mother.

How I broke the news...Babies, Baileys, and a Butteryfly Balloon...

...I stared at the plus sign in disbelief. Immediately I was grateful that I had bought the Econo-pack and had an extra pregnancy test waiting for me in the bedroom. As I wobbled my way out of my bathroom down the hall into the bedroom I didn't even bother pulling up my pants. Once I got the the other test, I ripped it open with my teeth and ran back down the hall with Capone, my cocker spaniel, chasing after me in excitement.

Nerves must have loosened up my bladder because I had NO problem peeing for a second time.

...Two LONG minutes later...

When I saw the second plus sign I dramatically yelled, "Oh noooooo!!" but quickly laughed to myself cause I wasn't quite as shocked as my initial reaction would have led an onlooker to believe. Granted, my husband and I had had the "HYPOTHETICAL BABY" conversation and we had decided that we were kinda ready to have a child but I think we were both assuming that we had another 4-6 months before we successfully conceived. We obviously had no idea how fertile we were.

I was in a state of semi-shock and denial when I began to think, "how in the world am I going to tell my husband when we are trying to save for a house, save for a trip, save for retirement, and save for new summer clothes that we are REALLY about to have a kid?" My mind quickly started to panic but I knew I had to figure out how to break the news fast..

I only had 2 hours before I had to be at a meeting for work so I knew I had to plan fast and make a checklist pronto.

I can't tell Pat until he comes home from work. But I know he will be hungry. So Salmon Pinwheels, Spinach, and Rice - Check.

When Pat is sad/anxious/happy/bewildered he likes cherry pie before he goes to bed. So CHERRY PIE - check.

Pat will be in shock. So BOTTLE OF BAILEY'S - check.

I quickly went to the grocery store and picked up all the items that I thought I would need to break the news to Pat without sending him into a panic attack. As I was leaving out, I saw a huge butterfly balloon that said "New Beginnings" and I got it because it was equal parts corny and funny and I figured that the balloon would do all the talking for me.

Once I got home, I quickly cooked the salmon and spinach and chilled the bailey's and cherry pie before heading out to my meeting.

A few hours later, when I walked back into the house, Patrick was in the bathroom shaving his head.

"Hey babe. What did the doctor say? You're pregnant?"

"Yes...and I bought you a balloon. Did you see it?

"What? Balloon? What? You lying."

"No, I'm not. I'm pregnant Jack. I got you a card."

"You're pregnant?

"Yep."

"Oh no!!!" Pat said.

"That's what I said!" I replied as I started to laugh.

We walked into the front and sat on the couch and he said "our little babies...we are gonna have one sitting right here and one sitting right there."

"How in the kelly clarkson did this turn into two babies?!," I exclaimed loudly.

But he never responded. Instead, we just sat together on the couch...shocked, amazed, and petrified for the rest of the night because we both knew that from this day forth there would always be a third person in the room with us.

A is for "Always Ask for a Pregancy Test"

By the time I went to see the doctor, I had been congested for 4 months. Imagine four months of breathing out your mouth 100% of the time and the thought alone may make you nauseous. When people fart around you, you have to swallow their gas...When the air smells like sewage...you have to swallow the smell of people's sh*t. So let's just say, by the time I bit the bullet and went to the doctor I was one miserable puppy who was willing to donate my body to science if that meant that they'd cure whatever was keeping me from breathing.  I had tried benadryl, sudafed, claritin, zyrtec, a humidifier, a purifier, a neti-pot, and trying to rebuke the "demon of congestion" with a bible and holy water but nothing worked. So after much resistance, I found myself in Northwestern's Urgent Care Department waiting to be seen.

Now before going to the doctor, my period was late, but only 2 days late so give me a break. However, since my period came every 29 days at exactly 6:00 o'clock in the morning for the past 18 years, I should have recognized that a late period was my first legitimate sign. Nevertheless, after the doctors completed my examination and told me to go home I thought I was all clear.

"Well, what did they say? Are you dying or are you pregnant?," my older sister asked.

"I don't think either. They just gave me a nasal steroid spray and told me to come back in a month."

"Well, did you take a blood test or a pregnancy test?," my sister insistently asked.

"Uhm...neither. But I figure they would have heard something wouldn't they??"

"What the H*ll do you think they would've heard Kirstin? Mommy, I'm in here?! Goodness...you can be such a ditz. Go take a test before you use that steroid fool. PLEASE."

So here I am at Walgreens, nervously looking for a pregnancy test like I am 18 years old. Should I get the electronic indicator or the plus/minus indicator? Should I spend the extra money to get the one that could tell you 5 days in advance or the one where two pee sticks came in one box? I suddenly felt too overwhelmed to make any decision.

After picking the "buy one get one free" deal, I realized that I had to call for help because all of the pregnancy tests were behind a glass casing. I went to find the closest call button at the end of the aisle but wasn't prepared for the mortification that was to come next...

"ASSISTANCE NEEDED IN WOMEN'S CONTRACEPTION AND FERTILITY. ASSISTANCE NEEDED IN WOMEN'S CONTRACEPTION AND FERTILITY,." blared over the store's loud speakers. Embarrassed I tried to pretend that I was looking at the selection of Nutrifast until I saw someone coming from around the corner.

Finally, a little short man peeked around the corner, quickly assisted me with kindness and discretion and sent me on my way.

I drove 6 city blocks like a mad rapper running from the police.

Suddenly it was just me and my white porcelain Goddess, who was there to deal me my fate.

As I sat on the toilet I held my pee just long enough to say "God, let your will be done, BUT, since I hate my job, if you could be a fence of contraceptive protection around my uterus just one more time I would greatly appreciate it."

And with a release of my own will and a release of my urine, I held my breath and stepped forth into the unknown...