T-Minus Two Weeks ‘til Second Trimester: Time Warp Please!

After my third call in-a-row to Katy on my way home from work tonight, I snapped the phone shut a bit anxiously as she didn’t answer, again. It’s not that I was obsessively worried about her; I really just wanted to reach her before I got home.

We’ve been in a routine for the past few weeks and I really hate to break routine; especially in these days of the great unknown. Basically, everyday during the work week we get a hold of one another around the end of the work day and I ask the simple question, “So, what sounds good for dinner tonight?”

This leads to an elongated conversation about random simple meals Katy thinks won't come back up later in the evening. It’s like a multiple choice question on a high school quiz - but this question usually doesn’t have a correct answer. At least so far.

However, we keep hearing things should turn around and get much better in the second trimester. We just entered our 11^th week of pregnancy, which means that might be light I’m seeing at end of this tunnel (no sick pun intended) (reference to stupid pun shamefully intentional)

When the pregnancy was still really fresh, all the changes going on with my wife – even though painful and discomforting to her – were really awe-striking to me.

She kept talking about how weird she felt because she could feel her body going through so many physical changes. I kept thinking about how cool it was that I turned my wife into a Transformer. Or, as I tell it to my my wife, I found it utterly cute and adorable that my baby was making a baby.

I found it so "cute" early on that one night I woke up in the middle of the night and before I fell back to sleep, I went into a half-awake dream state and imagined that there was Doozer inside my wife, prepping her body to house the baby.

If you recall, Doozers were the little green construction workers on the show, Fraggle Rock. The Doozer in my fantasy is the head Doozer from the show, who comes complete with a pink nose and a grey mustache.

Just like in the show, all he's concerned about is building these scaffolding like structures. The only difference is that now he is building scaffolding structures to support my wife's growing womb, versus the show, where the Fraggles simply ate his structures like snacks.

It was an odd show and this is an odd fantasy.

So there's a Doozer in my wife's belly. I haven't gotten to detailing out how he gets there, but he is there none-the-less, with only one goal to accomplish on his mind. He is a single handed machine, laboring tirelessly forward to do nothing but build and expand his infamous scaffolding-like structures that will form the dome to keep our baby safe and secure.

He spends his days building, checking the blue print and scratching his head as he anxiously tries to figure out how he’ll complete his daunting task on time.

Katy woke up with me the same night I created this odd world in my head. I shared the story with her and we shared a good laugh at four-o-clock in the morning.

It was one of the first times we broke the ice and made light-hearted conversation about the effects pregnancy was having on her body. After all, what's not fun and cute about the thought of a tiny green guy in her womb, busting out his mad construction skills to make her belly a safe haven for the baby monster for the next nine months?

For starters, how about his over-zealous dedication to construction, which has completely screwed with my wife for the last 11 weeks non-stop. I shouldn’t complain, I know. Baby and wife are both healthy. But, we're now into an 11 week stretch of Katy as a puke-ie, couch stricken mess.

After next week, we'll officially enter into the second trimester and I really hope that means Doozer gets her to a comforting spot in the construction process soon. If not, I hope he at least leaves – in whatever way he entered – from time-to-time and starts helping me with the laundry.