My Body is Not My Own.

I'm 28 years old. I've had 28 years to sort myself out, both physically and emotionally. On the physical front, I feel like I've gotten rather comfortable with myself - at least I know what to expect. I know what my hair will look like dried naturally, blown out or straight-ironed. I know what will hold it up and what it's texture is. I know that my skin isn't perfect and, accordingly, what kind of soap/moisturizers/skin care products work best. I know where to expect a pimple and how long it will choose to reside in that place. I know what shades of make-up work best with my skin and eyes, what fit of clothes work best with my figure and where to find all of those things. I know how quickly I gain weight and where, what to do to lose it and about how long that will take. I've had a lot of time to work those things out, and regardless of whether the results are always what I'm wanting, I at least have a good idea of what to expect.

Enter pregnancy.

Here's what I was unaware of:
That "pregnancy glow"? Well, that's your hormones working in over-drive, giving my naturally non-oily face an oil-slick to deal with. Not having the right skin products to deal with this new development turned that oil-slick into pimples in odd places and left the make-up I own ill-equipped to handle the aforementioned oily skin. Those same hormones that people say make the hair on your head beautiful and shiny also make your hair grow ridiculously fast. Nothing like looking like "amazon-lady" if you don't shave under your arms and your legs EVERY freaking day. Unbelievable. The weight gain is still minimal, but it's in such an odd place that I'm left looking like the girl walking around that just can't hold her stomach in. All I need to do now is walk around a gas station barefoot and I'll have the Britney Spear's pregnancy look down pat. And, finally, what this tiny, little sprout is doing to my insides is like the first little rebellion against me of his or her life! I have to eat every few hours or else I'm instantly nauseous, and all the fabulously healthy food that I'm eating for this little one has made me horrendously constipated. Sorry for the too much information, but let the truth be told! My beautiful gym routine and "regular" cycle - all terrifically disturbed. I spent my entire weekend trying different "methods" to coax my body back into it's normal routine. Fabulous.

Now, don't get me wrong. This baby is a through and through blessing, and I'm very thrilled to be carrying it. And certainly, many women deal with much worse problems. I'm clearly aware of that fact. It's just this strange sense of not knowing what to expect from myself. Each week is a new set of rules as far as what I can eat and do, etc. This constantly changing environment is quite a challenge for someone who enjoys a (at least) basic sense of control over her life.

I can't say I'm one of those women who is blissful with her pregnancy experience so far, but I can say that I'm ok with it. And furthermore, I'm over the moon with what the outcome will be. And, you know what,"ok" is something I think I can learn to live with. :)