Sinking in

The fact that I am actually pregnant is starting to sink in, a little. Three symptoms have appeared (one more recently than the others) and serve as constant little reminders.
Number one: I have to pee all the time. By that, I mean constantly -- four or five times during the night. For a woman who has always prided myself on my ability to "hold it," this new phenomenon has been quite a revelation. It's an annoying yet somehow comforting symptom that reminds me (every 30 mins or so) that this is real.
Number two: I'm sleepy. What I mean by that is I now take naps. I have not napped like this since college when it seemed I was always exhausted. On the days that I work, I do not get to take a nap, so this means I try to hide my yawns from my coworkers (who just laugh and say "you just wait, this is nothing!") and I fall asleep in front of the TV by 8 p.m.
Number three: The most recent symptom developed over the past few days. I am hungry. Often. For example, last night, I had dinner around 7 p.m. By 10 p.m. I was in the bed reading when my stomach began to cry out for more food. I got up, got a snack and went back to reading. Greg called. "Are you in bed?" he asked. "Yes, I'm reading," I said, with my mouth full of granola. "Are you eating?" he said. "Yea, I was hungry... so what," I said. "In BED? You're eating in bed?" and this was followed by my husband's familiar laugh. I have to admit. I was a little embarrassed. Obviously, eating in bed is something I never do.
Like many women who experience infertility, it has been difficult for me to grasp the fact that we actually achieved pregnancy with this last cycle. It feels wrong of me to think past the day at hand, that somehow I might jinx this stroke of good luck and that at any moment the other shoe might fall and it will all be over. I even pause as I write about these symptoms of early pregnancy because somewhere in my craziness, I think that writing about them might make them disappear. I read this post and though it is quite long, parts of it are very insightful. Here's a bit that explains where I am at right now:
"Patients anticipating moving on from the distress of infertility and reveling in the joy of pregnancy, may instead find that they have entered challenging new medical and emotional territory. The anxiety of, “Will this work?” shifts to, “Will this pregnancy last?” Many women say that they feel numb, and do not allow themselves to trust their bodies to work properly, sustain a viable pregnancy and produce a healthy child after so many disappointments. While they go through the motions associated with early pregnancy after infertility, checking blood levels, undergoing sonograms and repeated contacts with the fertility clinic, some women protect themselves against the pain of possible loss by being cautiously optimistic, at best." And, later, a statement that struck a chord in me. "There may be disappointment that infertility has robbed them the blissful ignorance of risks that those who did not experience infertility may enjoy."
I don't have the luxury of blissful ignorance, and because of that, my family and friends have made statements like, "you don't seem very excited," or "why do you always say "if"? (as in "if we hear a heartbeat at our next ultrasound I will feel more comfortable sharing the news with more people.") And I can't really explain it to them because if you haven't been down this crappy road, you probably wouldn't understand anyway.
I guess that's all for today. Just wanted to share some of my thoughts. I know that many of you have or will experience similar feelings so I thought I would share, because it has always been comforting to me to read a blog that makes me say -- "wow, I feel that same way. At least I'm not the only crazy one out there."