Earlier this week one of the cafeteria ladies at work pointed to my stomach and said “tell me? yes?” People are holding doors for me all of a sudden. It’s strange. Especially because now I feel mostly fine, and except for the occasional rolling sensation I could almost forget anything new was happening.
Today I went for a run for the first time since Memorial Day. Well, a “run.” It was a slow three miles and I walked a good third of it, worried about my ambitions causing problems. But so far so good. Having set aside the Chicago Marathon for this year, my new and more moderate goal is to continue my yearly tradition of running the Turkey Trot 8K on Thanksgiving. I’d be happy with “running,” really. I’ve missed it while wallowing in nausea and exhaustion. DJ has been going for walks with me instead, but it’s not the same. I like running, it feels better.
My favorite thing so far about being pregnant is how amazing food tastes. If it’s the right food (watermelon, peaches and cream oatmeal, Trader Joe’s tahini-free hummus, pad thai) the joy of eating it is beyond describing. Eating my oatmeal this morning and feeling like it was exactly right made me wonder – would dinner at the French Laundry be disappointing if the wanted food weren’t on the menu? I don’t know. But if anyone would like to send me to the French Laundry for dinner I would be happy to find out.