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).