those first 8 weeks of pregnancy…

For me, I find it utterly unbelievable how many women enjoy being pregnant and how many women have been pregnant since we, humans, have been in existence.

I mean that with every ounce of my being.

I probably sound rather negative right now, but holy cow has that been the mood and/or moods of the first eight weeks of my pregnancy.

If you’re pregnant now, God bless you! If you are trying to get pregnant – listen up; however, don’t take what I say too seriously because at the end of this, “magical,” roller coaster ride you will get a beautiful baby that loves you unconditionally …until it turns 14-years-old and hates the world for a little while.

Although, I have heard things turn out OK, no matter what, when you have a child. If you don’t believe me ask my mom, who now likes to drink too much wine with me (pre-pregnancy) and dance to the Hit-80s with me in my kitchen.

Does anyone else do things like this with their parent(s) or are we just weird? Regardless, onto the point…

My mom is my best friend, even if we get on each other’s nerves sometimes.


The first eight weeks of my pregnancy have been some of the most trying times that I have probably been through in the past several years. In life, we go through ups and downs, but holy hell nothing prepared me for what the actual first trimester of pregnancy would be like.

Finding out you are expecting is so exciting! And then there are the symptoms…

In my case, when we found out, I somehow imagined a baby showing up in my world, all lollipops and unicorns.  It was like I never thought my body would have to morph into this house to develop an infant child. In retrospect, I am not really sure what I thought was going to happen when we realized we were pregnant.

After we made our initial appointment with the doctor, it seemed like my body rapidly started to change in varying ways. I was completely unprepared for what happened, and think it’s fair to share my experience(s) with the world whether you are a soon-to-be parent, already a parent or simply just curious about babies!

During the first eight weeks of pregnancy, I felt like I drank a six-pack of Bud Light each day – aka I was bloated as hell. Maybe it’s just my consciousness or even insecurities, but I swear during the first eight weeks I felt like I was a walking balloon and that everyone could tell I was pregnant. Turns out, no one can tell you’re pregnant. Shocker! So, I guess I was just in my head and in my mind like that Dynoro song that’s out there and quite annoying.


My boobs grew and hurt like a mother. I literally started to question why everyone I knew that had a baby didn’t mention that fact to me pre-pregnancy. Instead every current mom I know decided to tell me how amazing your boobs get or how amazing their boobs are thanks to their child.

I guess it may just be me, but I would gladly take my small ta-ta’s back to take away the boob pain. I am a sucker when I am in pain, and I don’t mind the small boobies versus soreness. There is always this lovely thing called breast implants that I could invest in if I really felt the need to have larger breasts, but it turns out they are not conducive for pull ups and stuff I like to do at the gym. #Bummer

During the first eight weeks, I got beyond tired and lazy, and it was annoying. I would come home from work each day, eat dinner and fall asleep immediately after my evening shower. My husband would end up nudging me on the couch, around 7:30PM each night, asking me if I wanted to move to our bedroom. Turns out, when he did this, I would proceed to get angry with him for waking me (as if it was his fault). Who knew growing a child in your uterus made you tired, AF.


Aside from being sleepy, I was moody as can be. During those first eight weeks your body undergoes so many changes, and heck, you haven’t had your mother nature gift in a while so why wouldn’t your moods replicate a liar’s heartrate on a lie detector test?

Even as time has passed me by in this pregnancy, I can still find my inner Damien waiting to break out – especially if I haven’t eaten in a while. Sometimes I imagine it as a cartoon with my Angel and Devil self on each on my shoulders, and then when I have gone too long without eating the Devil side gets louder and louder, “GET IN MY BELLY, FOOD.”

But the worst part about those mood/food swings was that I couldn’t decide for the life of me what I wanted to eat. Even sitting here typing this, I struggle with what food sounds good.

One minute pizza sounds amazing, and the next minute you see that chicken breast you used to eat four times a week and you want to puke. One minute you feel nausea, and the next minute you want to have an intimate affair with an entire carton of real (dairy) ice cream.


When you really think about it, nothing about pregnancy makes much sense, and you might as well just throw that paleo, keto, whatever, diet nonsense out the freaking window. I don’t even like the word diet, but you catch my drift.

For the first eight weeks you realize that, for the next nine months of your life, you don’t feel in control. You want to eat everything, and by everything I mean go into the kitchen and devour anything that isn’t health related.

At least that’s what has happened to me during the first eight weeks of pregnancy – no control.

I know this probably sounds all gloom and doom, but it really isn’t. I just wanted to state that I wasn’t prepared for what has happened to my body, and even more so – my workouts.

In the past year, I hit PR’s and got faster, stronger and better than I ever have been. I had told myself that 2019 was the year of six-pack abs and the year I finally got my diet in 100% check. Well, it turned out the good Lord had a different plan for me.

Regardless, I plan to pop this baby out and get back on track because now I am not doing this for me I am doing this for us. 






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