*sneeze*

By this point, you all know that I have the willpower of a tiny, willpowerless thing. The wee fetus, however, is very powerful motivation to step it up a notch. I want so much to be a good oven. So I flexed, took a deep breath, bought some healthy cook books and I was ready!

...I have not opened the cookbooks. I continue to eat ice cream, have on occasion avoided my required leafy greens, and (predictably) am woefully bad about my exercise regime (I'm telling you, the trapeze lady is CRAZY).

In spite of this, I tell myself I'm not a horrible person. I listen as my coworker informs me without the slightest remorse that she smoked throughout her three pregnancies and each of her young brood have only one head and all of their ten respective fingers and toes. A woman on the third floor reports that she drank Mountain Dew exclusively and liberally, and my grandma, when we discussed pregnancy cravings, stated dramatically, "I had to have rum and coke. Every day at least once a day. And I don't even like rum."

See? I'm so much better than that! I may have had pizza for dinner, but I don't shoot tequila while smoking a cigar. And, and I'm strictly adhering to the "consume nothing bad for the baby" rule. (Except the aforementioned ice cream, of course.) I don't drink caffeine, I will not inhale while walking by a smoker, I turn away alcohol, and I ignore all french cheeses.

Last week came the first true test of my will: the common cold.

During my sickness, I adamantly refused to take medication. I read every label religiously. I tell you, there is nothing you can take without consulting with a doctor. Dayquil? No. Vitamin C? No. You can't even inhale VapoRub without somebody's permission. (Come to think of it, I should check the label on my Chapstick.)

After hearing me whine watching me suffer, Lauren told me I was a loon and tried to sneakily rub me down with Vicks, but I resisted. There was even a covert call placed to the pharmacist to make sure there was nothing I could take. She confirmed. No meds for me!

Life without Dayquil? I... I don't even know how describe the misery (but Ryan could probably describe to you how miserable I was to live with - just a guess). I am now considering building a shrine to that little orange liquid cap just so it knows how much I worship it. (Though that crazy buzz that I usually have when I'm sick? Apparently not the meds. Perhaps its a mucus high?) And no Nyquil? *whimper*

I am adding this to my list of things they don't warn you about when pregnant. 1) The damn thing won't stop kicking. Ever. 2) Colds and flus feel similar to what I imagine it would feel like to suffer through a plague and die a slow and miserable death.

I totally should have kicked Ryan out of bed when he started sneezing.