A gal can get pretty carried away with paving the way for
pregnancy. Sometimes it’s hard to tell
fact from fiction. I have essentially
been operating like I could be pregnant at any moment. If reality television is to be believed,
it’s possible I might not
even know I’m pregnant for months. I want to be ready, but anything I do now is
really just busy work. So much if this
is out of my control. The control freak
in me is freaking out. I’ve been taking
prenatal vitamins for a year. I’ve
banned fast food, processed foods, coffee, alcohol and toxic cleaning products. Those things are all pretty common sense, but
what about pesticides, parabens,
and synthetic hormones? That shit is in
everything!
Not buying any processed
foods means making most things from scratch.
Fortunately, I like to cook, but I hate washing dishes. Last night I dropped a dish that shattered
into (and I’m not exaggerating) a billion tiny shards. Even after sweeping twice it was still like
that scene in Die Hard where Bruce Willis walks barefoot across a room full of
broken glass (okay, now I’m exaggerating).
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