Up till now Romance Novels have been a fairly good guide to life. I married a cute Irish Farm boy that I’m madly in love with, my best friends insist on giving advice while drinking, and if I were to have a murderous stalker I have no doubt I’d end up with some hot FBI agent guard. Who would somehow also secretly be my husband. Because…plot.
But romance novels are full of LIES as far as being pregnant. A vaguely upset stomach one morning makes the heroine realize she hasn’t had her period in a few months? Besides the obvious “get a damned tracking app for that shit, dummy” problem with that, let’s talk about how this bitch clearly got to skip most of the grim, grim first trimester. Where is the heroine tearing up and ranting for two pages because her boobs hurt so bad she’s seriously considering becoming a nudist rather than put on clothes? Or the one where rather than throwing up daintily once the heroine throws up all day, every day. Or the fiber pills they’ll have to take three times a day because being pregnant fucks with your digestion?
I also call bullshit on hidden baby plots. Let’s say I had decided to hide my pregnancy from my man. How the hell would that work? Who would go buy me popsicles on demand? Not me, the grocery store is full of FOOD and FOOD SMELLS. Hells. No. I don’t even go near refrigerators.
I would have lasted two days keeping it a secret, then I would have called that fucker on the phone. “Yea, I’m pregnant. Biology, am I right? Anyway, consider yourself an on-demand popsicle delivery service. Yea, I don’t care that you’re a spy with a traumatic past. Ask how many fucks I give about that right now? BTW it’s zero. Zero fucks. Bring me a popsicle.”
I guess I can give heroines in historicals a pass, but I now 100% support the idea that while pregnant a woman should be in “confinement.” That sounds like you don’t have to go anywhere or do anything. SIGN ME UP. You could lock yourself in a room and have servants on call to bring you whatever the historical equivalent of popsicles were? YES PLEASE. Your hansom hubby wouldn’t be sitting on the bathroom floor googling morning sickness cures while you dry heave and spit, that would be some hapless servant, and maybe someone who’d had a kid who could tell you what to do. This would also save you from face timing your mother/Rhian Cahill/Mari Carr and tearfully asking what the hell you were supposed to do.
I realize I sound both whiny and ungrateful. Let me say that I am so grateful that I was able to get pregnant, and I know what a blessing that is. It’s just that knowing it’s a beautiful miracle etc doesn’t stop me from wanting to whine about how crappy I feel. I never said I was a good person.
Okay, technically (if you want to get technical) I’m having a baby. Yes, the reason I’ve been MIA is that I’m pregnant, and at least in my case pregnant has meant feeling like I was hungover and coming down the the flu and being beat with a big stick–for nearly 2 months straight.
That’s right IH is having a baby! (I figure if I say it’s IH’s baby I can make Mari, Rhian, Lexi, Sami, Jess, Lexi, Val, T and Bianca help me). They’ve all told me that I’m not allowed to simply drop the baby off at their front doors if I panic, but I feel like there’s still room for negotiation.
So to answer your questions:
Where have you been?
Dry heaving/living on the bathroom floor. On good days I ate popsicles. The flight to Ireland was probably one of the most horrifying experiences of my life since I get airsick too. Luckily I seem to have passed out of the “sick as hell” phase.
When did you get pregnant?
Er… technically (there’s that word again) at RT, or the week after RT. Stupid New Orleans! Stupid erotic books that I bought and read!
Are you and Farm Boy qualified to have a baby?
Me? No. Farm Boy has some serious baby magic, so my plan is to just give him the baby until it’s like…5.
In summary, I’m terrified out of my mind, and have been too sick to do much except watch netflixs and sleep. My netflix binging included things like “Call the Midwife” which may not have been a totally genius idea.
Ireland may not seem like the place to come to recover when you’re feeling crummy, and frankly, it’s probably not. Unless you’re me, and going to Ireland means sitting close to the stove, eating homemade bread and then getting babied by your mother-in-law (yes, Farm Boy’s mom is seriously the best.) I’m currently in Ireland, looking out the window at a bush and the cows beyond, and thankfully, for the first time in a while, feeling like all is right with the world.
And how could I not when we take daily trips to amazing places like these?
But, you may be wondering, what’s WRONG with you, Lila? Why isn’t “C is for…” out? What about the 5th Trinity Masters book? Why have you disappeared from Facebook and twitter?
I promise you I have a very good reason. A reason I will tell you about…
I want to thank everyone who commented yesterday. The winners of the contest are:
- Sharon (Comment 3)
- Savonna (about Comment 24 – counting only the new comments, not where I replied back)
They should email me at email@example.com.
Thank you all for participating in the fun and I can’t wait to see the movies!
Lexi Blake’s latest release is A View to a Thrill, her seventh book in the Masters and Mercenaries series.
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