So, the news is….I’m pregnant! Well, it’s not really news anymore since I am cruising right into the third trimester. Things have gone by so fast it has been like a time warp. Somehow I had imagined that I would be blogging daily about this adventure and all of the new and exciting things happening with the joys of pregnancy for the second time. So I thought. The actuality is that it hasn’t been all that romantic.
During my first pregnancy I spent a lot of time just being “pregnant.” It was glorious! So many naps and extended time lounging I just felt pampered and literally glowed with joy and excitement. Of course I was excited this time around I just had zero time to lounge or glow. Chasing after a three-year old pretty much trumps everything else no matter how tired you are.
First, I began showing at about, um, conception. Someone joked that I probably had to look over the belly just to see if the stick test was positive or not. That was pretty much how it was. I woke up one morning and was not pregnant. The next day, albeit just a little bit pregnant, I woke up needing to wear maternity jeans. At one point I actually tried to suck in my stomach thinking by all things sane I was simply just slacking on my abdominal strength. Core muscles, right? Not so much.
About two minutes into the pregnancy I began feeling sick. Thanks to all that is holy, I was only sick for two weeks. However, those two weeks were raging with vomit and gagging. My sense of smell was in complete and utter overdrive. During a meeting I sat across the table from a colleague whom I had been told had quit smoking. Really? Well, this woman with the nose of a bloodhound begs to differ. Amid a large and airy office I could detect the delightful aroma of cigarette smoke attempting to be masked by Listerine quick dissolve strips.
As delightful as mornings are in my home they were not so welcome during these two weeks. Pickle usually wakes up between six and seven in the morning and comes to join us in our bed. It really is a sweet time to snuggle and talk about plans for starting the day. For whatever reason I would systematically end up in the middle between Pickle and Brian to find myself smack dab in the middle of a horrid morning breath sandwich. Can you two please learn sign language or some other form of communication that does not require the releasing of breath over my highly sensitive nose? Everyone out of the way! Momma has to hurl.
Since then I have experienced the delight of two allergy attacks and a sinus infection. A chest cold that left me with a raging cough and no sense of taste. I found out that in second pregnancies it’s not uncommon to wet your pants. Yes world, it is true. Hold on to your bladder because one coughing spell left me with wet panties and tons of tears. Brian was so supportive and reassured me that it was all certainly normal. Yes, I told him, normal if you are 106 years old!
Each cough, each day without a sense of taste, each episode of vomiting in the sink, and yes, each reminder that my bladder is no longer the spry organ it once was, it is all completely and totally worth it. I’m creating life. A precious angel that I am honored to have been chosen to be his mother. With each kick, rumble, and bout with indigestion I find clarity in that without a shadow of a doubt this life within me is nothing more than a wondrous, marvelous miracle.