Well, here are some of the ones I'm breaking:
- I'll be twelve weeks on Monday and so far I've lost five pounds. I'll admit some of this is probably due to muscle mass turning into fat. Most of it is due to the effects of a diet comprised mostly of Saltine crackers. I know eventually I'll be complaining about how much weight I'm gaining, but not yet!
- I still drink the communion wine. Apparently there are some women who flip their lids demanding grape juice instead. Ladies, it's a thimbleful of crappy wine once a week. Alternatively, the blood of Jesus can't hurt your baby.
- I still eat Sam's Club hot dogs that have been sitting in the warmer. Mostly because Sam's Club hot dogs are made by angels in heaven and sent winging earthward on potato bun wings and therefore could not possibly give me food poisoning.
- I participated in a comic medication back-and-forth with the doctor's office. "Stop taking that medicine!" "No that medicine's okay; stop this one." "Never mind, just keep doing what you were doing. Just don't do this." Sigh. Depending on who is actually correct, I possibly have caused or am continuing to cause irreparable harm to Critter.
- I didn't feel all that excited when we first saw Critter on its ultrasound. It was cool and all, but I'm just not that emotional a person. I wasn't too terribly stoked about my wedding, either.
- I don't have any cravings, at least so far. And I don't have aversions to specific foods, just to eating in general.
- I'm not freaking out about every twinge or rushing constantly to the doctor to demand extra tests and ultrasounds. I'm very que sera, sera about the whole thing. Apparently this is unusual.
For instance, my doctor told me to keep exercising but just make sure to keep my heartrate under 120. My mom told me I shouldn't raise my body temperature by working out too hard or taking hot baths. A friend said her doctor said all of that was old wives' tales and she could do whatever she wanted, which she proceeded to do, and her healthy son is now two.
When different authorities give you contradicting advice, you just can't please them all.
And it's just going to get worse once Critter is born. No matter what I do--crying, no crying, spanking, no spanking, infant baptism and feeding and diapering and sleepovers and extracurriculars--someone will tell me I'm doing it wrong.
You know what else? They'll be right. I will be doing it wrong--for them. What I choose to do during this pregnancy and in rearing Critter and its eventual theoretical siblings could be the completely wrong things for other people to do.
But barring gross negligence and inevitable learning experiences (aka mistakes), what I do is and will be the right thing for me. And the DDH and Critter and theoretical future siblings, etc., who get a certain amount of say in the situation.
Because one size fits all, doesn't.