Raining, not snowing

At the moment I seem to have a very high percentage of pregnant friends keeping blogs (daily to weekly) about their pregnancies, or at least updating frequently on their regular blogs with pregnancy details.

When we were thinking about having a baby (well, I was thinking about it, targaff was pretty much not thinking about the topic at all) I really *loved* reading entries like that...the "how big is my baby and what's its development RIGHT NOW?" updates. They bring happiness, musings like that, because they're all about the future, about excitement, promise, hope.

At the moment I still read them, but I don't derive pure pleasure from them anymore either. As glad as I am to hear that things are progressing, it's *hard* to not be one of you, to not be making these kinds of entries myself and making plans and lists of things that we need. While a part of me enjoys that Brie sandwich, another part of me wants to spit it out, wishing that I actually *couldn't* eat it, that I could blame heat? allergy?-induced nausea on pregnancy hormones instead. That I could be eagerly awaiting the motion of a baby inside.

I'm not feeling devastated anymore. I can talk about the miscarriage more easily, without being afraid that tears will suddenly start to flow. I'm okay, really, and am more able to think about future babies instead of the one that's gone, but I miss the pleasure of reading pregnancy entries without a twinge of sadness for what wasn't.

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The weather has finally changed from super-hot and humid to cool/warm and humid, which is a welcome development. I was having so much trouble sleeping with even my super-light cotton sheet sticking to me at night. Now, though, allergies are in full swing, which is strange considering I've never had hayfever like this before. Allergy tablets work so sporadically that I don't really bother taking them, except before I head out to work to try to stave off the worst from my morning walk. Yesterday was the worst though--my sore throat kept acting up--it felt *dry* even though I drank as much water as I could get in! I was running to the bathroom so frequently that my co-worker in the office must have thought I was sick or something.

Of course, my miscarriage-induced hypochondria started panicking, remembering that my really miserable illness/rash/whatever of last autumn started off as a nagging sore throat that just wouldn't go away, so I was envisioning yet another vasculitis attack when the scars from the last one still mar the skin on my legs to the point where I don't like to wear capris because they show the brown marks!

When I say hypochondria, I mean it. I've never felt this scared that something was about to go wrong before and afraid that suddenly I'll have a heart attack at 27, die of a stroke, or that something else really nasty will happen. I'm not normally this paranoid, so I can only attribute it to leftover psychological baggage that I'm hoping will go away sooner rather than later, particularly since I'm not thrilled with the idea of visiting my GP, even as I go through five minute sneezing fits, itchy eyes, and a nose that requires constant Kleenex attention.

Who'd have known grief could manifest itself in so many bizarre ways?!

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Also, on a lighter note, I need ideas for good portable lunches again. I'm going to buy myself baguettes and nicer deli meats (ie, prosciutto) but other recipes and inspiration would be lovely, as I'm back in no-free-lunch-for-the-summer mode! I'd love some make-ahead salad recipes, good portable sandwich ideas, and that sort of thing...I'll eat almost anything (excluding cantaloupe, brussels sprouts, and green beans) and can generally manage to substitute what I don't!