The Art of....Gas?

So this is one of those gross posts. One where I need to get something off my chest, quite literally. I've heard about pregnant women and gas, but come on- we're women. We don't discuss the actual details of our bodily functions. Men prance around (yes, prance) and let one rip after dinner as a "compliment to the chef" whether it's take out or home cooked. They belch just to get us women to have a reaction. Sometimes they do it just to clear the room or get a good laugh. My wonderful husband isn't too bad and usually won't let it rip in front of company, which I appreciate. In bed, well it's kind of anyone's game.

But I digress. I've always been one of those women who likes to pretend that I don't have gas or anything else officious that expels, but in recent weeks, I have shamefully become disgusting with the noises coming out.

Last night I'm snuggling with Phil on the couch. Just relaxing, when all of a sudden this intense pressure in my stomach begins to rumble. I tried to ignore it. Pretend it wasn't happening when the pain began. Having no choice, I pushed. It was small, barely even noticeable. But OMG! Even my eyes were watering. What the hell did I eat???? I asked myself. Before I could answer that question my chest started feeling tight. Opening my mouth and a belch that would impress any die hard football fan came out. Embarrassed I hid my face in Phil's chest, "OMG! I'm so sorry!!" I cried, all the while thinking, This is the moment he leaves me. Instead of running or being disgusted he kissed the top of my head, chuckled a bit and wrapped the blanket more securely around me to trap any further offensive smells from leaking through.

As it stands I walk around feeling gassy all the time. I take a drink of water, then burp. Or run to the bathroom and pee. Tomorrow is 15 weeks! I can't wait to see what's in store for me now.