Pregnant Musings Vol. 1

Sorry, no pictures yet. Partly because I do NOT feel like being the subject of a picture right now and partly because I just haven’t remembered to ask someone to take one.

We are safely into the second trimester of the pregnancy of our second child. I’m about 15 weeks (for those of you who haven’t been pregnant lately, or who don’t think in weeks, that’s about 3 1/2 months). I am happy to be done with most of the nausea and mind-numbing exhaustion, although I’m not quite in the “fun” part of being preggo–if there is such a thing! First, my complaints: I am not one of those women whose skin glows during pregnancy. My face turns into a proactiv-craving teenager. I like to call myself the Pregnant Pimple Princess. Also, I started out this pregnancy a good 10 (OK, it’s 13, alright! I know exactly. I know that’s weird) pounds heavier than when I got pregnant the first time. Ugh. These first few months are awkward anyway, because you kind of grow out side to side before you get that cute little baby bump, and I just seem to be feeling more like a tree-trunk than a lovely baby-growing home. (Please do not feel the need to console me and tell me I look fine. I know I’ll survive and lose the weight someday. Just let me wallow in my self-pity for today.) Also, I’m still tired a lot and have to pee about every 20 minutes.

Now, the good things. It’s going by faster this time! Although I’m not pouring over the pregnancy books day by day like last time, I do try to check and see what’s going on in there. It’s already only about 5 more weeks until we have the ultrasound to let us know if there’s a brother or a sister in there. Phoebe or Phoebo. That’s when it starts to get really REAL! But I think the best part about being pregnant the second time is that I KNOW, I mean I have experienced first-hand a child. I have discovered how this abstract love you have for your unborn becomes an amazing, previously unknown unconditional, surreal love for your newborn–though it is very intense and real, it morphs into a concrete, physical, actual-pain-in-your-gut-if-you-think-about-it-too-much kind of love for your child, an adoration for them as an individual and certain traits you can’t get enough of as they grow and develop personality. I dread those first few weeks with a newborn. To be honest, I was really quite miserable. In my mind, I handled it worse than most women. (Have I mentioned I’m a sleeper?) But I think I’ll have even more motivation to get through them, because I’m going on my own experience of how it gets better, not just others’ encouraging words. I can’t wait to add another little person to our family to make us laugh, drive us crazy, play with his/her brother and cousins, smile in the Christmas picture, laugh at Daddy, be loved on my our extended family….all these little moments in Carson’s life have brought me indescribable joy, and I can only imagine my heart’s going to grow even more (picture the Grinch’s heart at the end of the movie) with love for this new little one. The future, in my mind, is full of hope and dreams for these kids…even the one(s?) I don’t know yet.

So, can someone please read this to me next July when I am crying from sleep-exhaustion and ready to hand over the baby to the nearest orphanage?