Wednesday, September 21, 2011
25 Week Photo... Seriously!
Okay, so here it is ladies and gentleman (singular for Jim). I have finally gotten around to having Paul take a belly shot before managing to pour myself into mismatched pajamas for the night. As I was looking at these photos I was SHOCKED to see how incredibly huge my belly appears. It seriously looks like my belly at 30+ weeks with Chloe. While I think that the sweater is a little bulky and my positioning a bit to the side make for an even larger appearance, I realized that I actually am a lot bigger a lot sooner this time around. It is funny, because I walk around all day not even noticing my belly until I see my reflection in the mirror or in a window. I always do a double take. Who is that pregnant lady?!
Tuesday, September 20, 2011
Apple Orchard
Last weekend marked Paul's first weekend home in several weeks. We were happy to have him back! On Saturday morning we decided to go to the apple orchard. I was craving some hot apple cider and pumpkin spice donuts. The orchard we went to had goats, bunnies, and chickens. Chloe loved the bunny and wanted to give him kisses.
We borrowed a wagon, but Chloe preferred to walk and pluck her own apples for eating.
Of course, I can NEVER get a good picture of Chloe smiling. She liked this little horse, and was very content eating her apple, though I couldn't seem to capture her feelings on camera.
After the orchard we headed downtown to see The Calvary, last year's Art Prize winner. If you haven't seen it yet, this was drawn in all pencil. It was really amazing!
Chloe especially loved running around the building and rearranging the seating.
We also had lunch at BW3 where we watched the Central/Western game while allowing our child to crawl all over the massive booth we insisted on having. After that we took a walk to see our friends Brian and Hillary down the street. We hung out with them for the rest of the night. It was a busy, fun Saturday!
Friday, September 16, 2011
A Few Pics
It has been a while since I have gotten around to posting new pictures of Chloe. I will make a weak attempt here to update you with her whereabouts.
Here she is busting her little head through her sand and water table umbrella. The umbrella had a tiny hole in it that mysteriously tore into a hole big enough to fit Chloe's entire body.
Thursday, September 1, 2011
Pregnancy Update - 22 Weeks
It is only fair that I record some memories of this pregnancy as I did with my first pregnancy. On April 30, 2011, Chloe and I wandered over to my neighbor's garage sale that she was hosting with her friend, Chelsea. Chelsea happens to be a wonderful saleswoman and she said "Are you planning to have another child? I have a bunch of maternity clothes for sale for $0.50 a piece." She started holding clothes up to my body and telling me they would be cute. Sure enough, she had some really nice stuff for just one half of a dollar!! I had a few bucks on me so I figured, what the heck. I picked up $3.50 worth of maternity clothes that were probably worth over $300. When I made it home I spread my loot out on the floor to admire my good work. It got me thinking... How long has it been since I have even had a period? It has been just one month, right? Not two? No, definitely not two. Hmm I had better take a test just to be sure.
So Chloe accompanied me in the bathroom, because, of course I needed her help pulling all of the toilet paper out from under the sink. I peed on the stick while stiff-arming my daughter. Almost instantly, I got a pregnant reading. Shit! It can't be! How did this happen?!?!? (Don't answer that.) When Paul got home I instructed him to go to the bathroom to see what he did. This is funny, because on a rare occasion he will forget to flush the toilet, and I can actually get my husband of nearly four years and partner of nearly twelve years embarrassed. He saw the test and said "You're kidding?" This is funny, because a few months before that I took a pregnancy test that read not-pregnant, but Paul replaced it with Chloe's old positive test that was stashed away in a drawer somewhere. I totally freaked out when I saw it. He thought himself a pretty funny guy that day. But back to April 30. Paul was super excited. He was much calmer than I was about the prospect of a new baby. I was just starting to get used to life with just the one!
The doctors insisted I was three weeks further along than what I thought. I begged and begged for an ultrasound. I told the nurse I would probably get fired if I was due on their prospective due date of December 19, 2011. She didn't care. She said, "Your boss being mad is not a good enough reason for an ultrasound." But that stupid nurse couldn't find the heartbeat after trying for over ten minutes. When the doctor came in she said, "I'm going to look for the heartbeat, but I'm not going to look very hard." Wink, wink. In the five seconds she looked for the heartbeat she didn't find it and ordered us an ultrasound. She must have thought she owed us one since she practically slept through the delivery of our daughter while the nurses and resident took care of business.
The next day we had an ultrasound and found that we were only nine weeks along instead of twelve. Momma was right. The baby was due January 6, 2012. I felt this would be a far less scary date to tell my boss, so good job, baby! We ended up telling our families right away when we were only about six weeks along. Everyone was very excited for us! I was still freaking out.
Like my first pregnancy, I never suffered from morning sickness. My body is great at being pregnant. That seems like a funny thing to say about myself, but it's true. After dealing with the backlash of quitting caffeine with Chloe I had sworn off the drippings of the delicious black bean forever, but I fell of the wagon about nine months post-partum. I decided to quit cold-turkey again. I suffered from severe headaches for a few days. Even now if I have a glass of Diet Coke or a half a cup of coffee I will get a severe headache by 4:00 p.m. the next day. That stuff is really addicting! I have found that drinking lots of water and eating small meals throughout the day helps with the headaches, as well.
I have also suffered from some indigestion. For a while I was so obsessed with hot sauce that I would only view foods as a medium for my hot sauce. Never in my life have I desired to eat a hot dog with chili slathered on the top, but it was a great hot sauce holder, so I devoured them. Well it turns out that the hot sauce comes back out just as spicy as it goes in, and I've had to cut back on my cravings as they are really just not worth the pain. My other craving would be Taco Bell. Mostly because tacos are a wonderful hot sauce holder. Probably the best.
The other weird symptom I have had this time around is that for a while there I was an emotional roller coaster. I went from being a psycho bitch to a sobbing mess. Usually, I am a secret cryer. Like, if I need to cry, I will usually wait until Paul falls asleep, and I will quietly whimper in my bed. But this one day I came home and it was just a waterfall of tears. Once I started crying I couldn't stop. I was crying about everything, and I did this for at least two hours. Paul didn't know what to do! He tried his best to make things better, but every time he had a solution I would start sobbing again. It was crazy. Thankfully, that only happened the one time, and I have even been a lot nicer lately. I swear.
At nine weeks the baby's heart rate was in the 180's, but every time after that the baby's heartbeat was in the 150's. Chloe was always in the 180's. According to old wives' tales, this points to a boy. Our Chinese gender chart also said boy.
So between the headaches, the indigestion, the emotions, and the lower heart rate readings everyone concluded that we would be having a boy. While we were hoping for a boy with Chloe, we were hoping for a girl this time around. In our minds we thought, what could be better than a little girl? Paul said he could see himself as the Daddy to little girls. We named our little fetus Lia Rose after my Grandma Reiber, Rosalie. It was her name just sort of flip-flopped and using the same letters. We couldn't wait for the ultrasound to confirm our suspicions of our little Lia Rose.
On August 18, 2011 we had our 20 week ultrasound where we found out we were having a little... BOY? Yes, we are indeed having a little boy. We are so excited - a little shocked still - but excited. I hope he is a little mini-Paul. He'll be so cute! Baby Boy T looked very healthy and strong from what we could tell on the ultrasound. After we found out the sex we went to Babies R Us and picked him out some outfits. We got him the same going home outfit we got for Chloe only in blue. We brought it home for my Mom to see. By the end of the weekend we were both just beside ourselves thinking of what our little boy will be like.
If you are wondering what the baby's name is going to be, we don't have a name for him yet. We named Chloe within a day or two of learning her sex. Boy names are so hard! If you have any good suggestions for us please let me know. I don't want anything too weird or girly sounding, but I don't want anything too boring, either.
I know that all people really want to see is a picture of my growing belly. And it is growing. I wrote this post two weeks ago thinking I would include my 20 week photo, but that day came and passed. I'm thinking maybe 23 weeks... or maybe I'll just wait until 25. I haven't taken a single picture of this baby bump yet. Paul says it is fine, though, since we are having a boy. He won't care. I think it is progressing similarly to my first pregnancy. So far I have gained about ten pounds, which is right on track with the suggested weight gain. From here on out I am anticipated to gain about one pound per week, which would put me at an overall weight gain of 30 pounds. Wouldn't that be lovely? I think with Chloe I was gaining like five pounds a week toward the end compared to the one pound they suggest. Oopsie.
That should bring us all up to date on pregnancy number two!
So Chloe accompanied me in the bathroom, because, of course I needed her help pulling all of the toilet paper out from under the sink. I peed on the stick while stiff-arming my daughter. Almost instantly, I got a pregnant reading. Shit! It can't be! How did this happen?!?!? (Don't answer that.) When Paul got home I instructed him to go to the bathroom to see what he did. This is funny, because on a rare occasion he will forget to flush the toilet, and I can actually get my husband of nearly four years and partner of nearly twelve years embarrassed. He saw the test and said "You're kidding?" This is funny, because a few months before that I took a pregnancy test that read not-pregnant, but Paul replaced it with Chloe's old positive test that was stashed away in a drawer somewhere. I totally freaked out when I saw it. He thought himself a pretty funny guy that day. But back to April 30. Paul was super excited. He was much calmer than I was about the prospect of a new baby. I was just starting to get used to life with just the one!
The doctors insisted I was three weeks further along than what I thought. I begged and begged for an ultrasound. I told the nurse I would probably get fired if I was due on their prospective due date of December 19, 2011. She didn't care. She said, "Your boss being mad is not a good enough reason for an ultrasound." But that stupid nurse couldn't find the heartbeat after trying for over ten minutes. When the doctor came in she said, "I'm going to look for the heartbeat, but I'm not going to look very hard." Wink, wink. In the five seconds she looked for the heartbeat she didn't find it and ordered us an ultrasound. She must have thought she owed us one since she practically slept through the delivery of our daughter while the nurses and resident took care of business.
The next day we had an ultrasound and found that we were only nine weeks along instead of twelve. Momma was right. The baby was due January 6, 2012. I felt this would be a far less scary date to tell my boss, so good job, baby! We ended up telling our families right away when we were only about six weeks along. Everyone was very excited for us! I was still freaking out.
Like my first pregnancy, I never suffered from morning sickness. My body is great at being pregnant. That seems like a funny thing to say about myself, but it's true. After dealing with the backlash of quitting caffeine with Chloe I had sworn off the drippings of the delicious black bean forever, but I fell of the wagon about nine months post-partum. I decided to quit cold-turkey again. I suffered from severe headaches for a few days. Even now if I have a glass of Diet Coke or a half a cup of coffee I will get a severe headache by 4:00 p.m. the next day. That stuff is really addicting! I have found that drinking lots of water and eating small meals throughout the day helps with the headaches, as well.
I have also suffered from some indigestion. For a while I was so obsessed with hot sauce that I would only view foods as a medium for my hot sauce. Never in my life have I desired to eat a hot dog with chili slathered on the top, but it was a great hot sauce holder, so I devoured them. Well it turns out that the hot sauce comes back out just as spicy as it goes in, and I've had to cut back on my cravings as they are really just not worth the pain. My other craving would be Taco Bell. Mostly because tacos are a wonderful hot sauce holder. Probably the best.
The other weird symptom I have had this time around is that for a while there I was an emotional roller coaster. I went from being a psycho bitch to a sobbing mess. Usually, I am a secret cryer. Like, if I need to cry, I will usually wait until Paul falls asleep, and I will quietly whimper in my bed. But this one day I came home and it was just a waterfall of tears. Once I started crying I couldn't stop. I was crying about everything, and I did this for at least two hours. Paul didn't know what to do! He tried his best to make things better, but every time he had a solution I would start sobbing again. It was crazy. Thankfully, that only happened the one time, and I have even been a lot nicer lately. I swear.
At nine weeks the baby's heart rate was in the 180's, but every time after that the baby's heartbeat was in the 150's. Chloe was always in the 180's. According to old wives' tales, this points to a boy. Our Chinese gender chart also said boy.
So between the headaches, the indigestion, the emotions, and the lower heart rate readings everyone concluded that we would be having a boy. While we were hoping for a boy with Chloe, we were hoping for a girl this time around. In our minds we thought, what could be better than a little girl? Paul said he could see himself as the Daddy to little girls. We named our little fetus Lia Rose after my Grandma Reiber, Rosalie. It was her name just sort of flip-flopped and using the same letters. We couldn't wait for the ultrasound to confirm our suspicions of our little Lia Rose.
On August 18, 2011 we had our 20 week ultrasound where we found out we were having a little... BOY? Yes, we are indeed having a little boy. We are so excited - a little shocked still - but excited. I hope he is a little mini-Paul. He'll be so cute! Baby Boy T looked very healthy and strong from what we could tell on the ultrasound. After we found out the sex we went to Babies R Us and picked him out some outfits. We got him the same going home outfit we got for Chloe only in blue. We brought it home for my Mom to see. By the end of the weekend we were both just beside ourselves thinking of what our little boy will be like.
If you are wondering what the baby's name is going to be, we don't have a name for him yet. We named Chloe within a day or two of learning her sex. Boy names are so hard! If you have any good suggestions for us please let me know. I don't want anything too weird or girly sounding, but I don't want anything too boring, either.
I know that all people really want to see is a picture of my growing belly. And it is growing. I wrote this post two weeks ago thinking I would include my 20 week photo, but that day came and passed. I'm thinking maybe 23 weeks... or maybe I'll just wait until 25. I haven't taken a single picture of this baby bump yet. Paul says it is fine, though, since we are having a boy. He won't care. I think it is progressing similarly to my first pregnancy. So far I have gained about ten pounds, which is right on track with the suggested weight gain. From here on out I am anticipated to gain about one pound per week, which would put me at an overall weight gain of 30 pounds. Wouldn't that be lovely? I think with Chloe I was gaining like five pounds a week toward the end compared to the one pound they suggest. Oopsie.
That should bring us all up to date on pregnancy number two!
Tuesday, August 23, 2011
The Switch
While I am sure to steer clear of any conversation regarding politics, religion, or money, lately, you'll find me dead center in the debate on childbirth. I've never understood how people could get so passionate about politics. Trust me, I have always found those people to be very annoying. So I am fully aware that I'm probably annoying the hell out of you with all of my talk about natural childbirth. I'll try to keep it to a minimum moving forward. I did, however, post a new article on The Mode Life about natural childbirth. You can read it by clicking the link below, or you can completely ignore my crazy, hippie-like rant and skip to the paragraph below the link. Your choice!
NOTE: What I failed to express in the article is that doing research and taking classes before your birth will help you to feel confident in the decisions being made, because you will be able to be a part of the decisions. At some point everyone is faced with a decision by a doctor, and it is up to you to ask the questions to learn if the procedure should be immediate, could be postponed, or is even necessary. Sometimes your baby and your body will go against your plan, like my sister-in-law whose water broke early with no other signs of labor. She can feel empowered knowing that it was safest for her and baby to be induced further. Of the five women in my Bradley class, four of us were able to follow through with our birth plans while one required an emergency c-section. The woman who had a c-section should feel empowered knowing she saved her baby's life. Either way, being knowledgeable about the process will help you to feel happy and confident about your birth, not to mention make it less scary.
For my next birth, if I need an epidural (which, believe it or not, is always an option in my mind) or Pitocin I will feel confident in my decision. My intention was not to make anyone feel like they had a lesser experience, but simply open your mind to your options. Whether you gave birth at the ER registration desk or in the ER room, you deserve to feel great about the experience because giving birth is amazing!
Take Back Your Birth!
On that topic, I have decided to switch to a midwife. Something I never really talk about is how horrible my doctor was during Chloe's actual birth, because we ended up waking her from her peaceful, on-call slumber. Someone dragged her down to the delivery room when it was time for me to push. I'm not sure if it was the resident or the doctor actually doing the delivering. I was pushing incorrectly for the first few pushes so the doctor yawned and walked out of the room. That pissed me off so with the next contraction I pushed as if my life depended on it. Sure enough, that was the push! I laughed on the inside as the doctor had to rush back in to deliver the baby. When I was being stitched up she was barking orders over the resident's shoulders. Now connect the left falangie to the starboard side, blah blah. No, not like that, blah. Cassie, if you would relax a little this would go a lot faster, blah. I hated her after that birth, but for some reason I went back to that office when I found out I was pregnant again.
After our ultrasound I met with another doctor there. This was the one who told me I couldn't feel the baby kicking yet, because it was too early. Because he has a uterus. And it has been kicked by a baby before, I'm sure. This time I expressed my desire for a natural birth. He made a few jokes aimed at Paul and then said to me "What birth isn't natural, really? Har har har." I told him one where he pumps me full of Pitocin and then ends up slicing open my stomach anyway, but our definitions are obviously different. That was enough to get me searching. What is a crazy, hippie birth lady like me doing with an OB/GYN anyway?
So I found this amazing midwife practice that has only two midwives who do only hospital deliveries. This is my perfect scenario. Between them they have delivered thousands and thousands of babies and have only a 9% c-section rate compared to nearly 28% for the area. The midwife I met with, Gail, believes that Pitocin should only be used when something is wrong and labor really isn't progressing naturally. She is supportive of all forms of pain reduction including medical ones like epidurals and natural ones like water, birthing balls, and massage. She will let me eat and drink while I labor. You wouldn't think that was too much to ask, but for most doctors it is. I get to call her by her first name! And chances are she will know mine without looking at my chart! She only takes a certain number of patients so that she is sure either she or Amy, the other midwife, will be available when it comes time to deliver the baby: I don't have to spin the wheel to see which of nine doctors will come to my rescue. Also, there is always a doctor on call in case of emergency.
I feel more confident this time about going to the hospital when I am supposed to go at 5-6 centimeters, instead of showing up at 9 centimeters due to a lack of trust on my part. Much safer. I pray that the rest of this pregnancy goes smoothly, and that the labor and delivery goes as seamlessly as my first. I also secretly hope for a small baby again. As a friend of mine brought to my attention, it would be much easier to push out a 6.5 pound baby without an epidural than a 10 pound baby! I couldn't agree more.
NOTE: What I failed to express in the article is that doing research and taking classes before your birth will help you to feel confident in the decisions being made, because you will be able to be a part of the decisions. At some point everyone is faced with a decision by a doctor, and it is up to you to ask the questions to learn if the procedure should be immediate, could be postponed, or is even necessary. Sometimes your baby and your body will go against your plan, like my sister-in-law whose water broke early with no other signs of labor. She can feel empowered knowing that it was safest for her and baby to be induced further. Of the five women in my Bradley class, four of us were able to follow through with our birth plans while one required an emergency c-section. The woman who had a c-section should feel empowered knowing she saved her baby's life. Either way, being knowledgeable about the process will help you to feel happy and confident about your birth, not to mention make it less scary.
For my next birth, if I need an epidural (which, believe it or not, is always an option in my mind) or Pitocin I will feel confident in my decision. My intention was not to make anyone feel like they had a lesser experience, but simply open your mind to your options. Whether you gave birth at the ER registration desk or in the ER room, you deserve to feel great about the experience because giving birth is amazing!
Take Back Your Birth!
On that topic, I have decided to switch to a midwife. Something I never really talk about is how horrible my doctor was during Chloe's actual birth, because we ended up waking her from her peaceful, on-call slumber. Someone dragged her down to the delivery room when it was time for me to push. I'm not sure if it was the resident or the doctor actually doing the delivering. I was pushing incorrectly for the first few pushes so the doctor yawned and walked out of the room. That pissed me off so with the next contraction I pushed as if my life depended on it. Sure enough, that was the push! I laughed on the inside as the doctor had to rush back in to deliver the baby. When I was being stitched up she was barking orders over the resident's shoulders. Now connect the left falangie to the starboard side, blah blah. No, not like that, blah. Cassie, if you would relax a little this would go a lot faster, blah. I hated her after that birth, but for some reason I went back to that office when I found out I was pregnant again.
After our ultrasound I met with another doctor there. This was the one who told me I couldn't feel the baby kicking yet, because it was too early. Because he has a uterus. And it has been kicked by a baby before, I'm sure. This time I expressed my desire for a natural birth. He made a few jokes aimed at Paul and then said to me "What birth isn't natural, really? Har har har." I told him one where he pumps me full of Pitocin and then ends up slicing open my stomach anyway, but our definitions are obviously different. That was enough to get me searching. What is a crazy, hippie birth lady like me doing with an OB/GYN anyway?
So I found this amazing midwife practice that has only two midwives who do only hospital deliveries. This is my perfect scenario. Between them they have delivered thousands and thousands of babies and have only a 9% c-section rate compared to nearly 28% for the area. The midwife I met with, Gail, believes that Pitocin should only be used when something is wrong and labor really isn't progressing naturally. She is supportive of all forms of pain reduction including medical ones like epidurals and natural ones like water, birthing balls, and massage. She will let me eat and drink while I labor. You wouldn't think that was too much to ask, but for most doctors it is. I get to call her by her first name! And chances are she will know mine without looking at my chart! She only takes a certain number of patients so that she is sure either she or Amy, the other midwife, will be available when it comes time to deliver the baby: I don't have to spin the wheel to see which of nine doctors will come to my rescue. Also, there is always a doctor on call in case of emergency.
I feel more confident this time about going to the hospital when I am supposed to go at 5-6 centimeters, instead of showing up at 9 centimeters due to a lack of trust on my part. Much safer. I pray that the rest of this pregnancy goes smoothly, and that the labor and delivery goes as seamlessly as my first. I also secretly hope for a small baby again. As a friend of mine brought to my attention, it would be much easier to push out a 6.5 pound baby without an epidural than a 10 pound baby! I couldn't agree more.
Friday, August 19, 2011
The Mode Life
In my infinite amounts of spare time I have made the logical decision to become a regular contributor on The Mode Life. The website was started by my neighbor who lives just two houses down the street. The concept is simple and cool. Basically, 30-40 ladies (and counting) use the website to post articles that are honest, refreshing, and relatable. The website is described as follows:
Wednesday, August 17, 2011
Unglamorous
I'm quickly realizing the second pregnancy is far less glamorous than the first. I can remember the day I found out I was pregnant with Chloe. My mind went straight from a vision of me with a round belly, skinny legs (even though I didn't have them to start with - it was my vision - give me a break), and a healthy glow, straight to a vision of me quietly rocking my peaceful baby in my meticulously maintained nursery.
There was nothing about the crazy, hormonal mood swings that follow closely behind the birth. Nothing about feeling sad that I could no longer feel the baby kicking my insides. Nothing about crying in the shower for a half hour just to cry. Nothing about berating my sweet husband for the most minuscule things.
In my vision there was nothing about spraying water from a squirt bottle on my girl parts while trying to pee. There was nothing about the sheer panic associated with "the first poop." There was nothing about suffering through weeks of maxi pads and ice packs. Nothing about stitches tearing and limping up the stairs.
There was nothing about hovering over the baby's crib, heart stopped, waiting for signs that she is still breathing. Nothing about watching her scream as she gets her first vaccinations. Nothing about being so tired and defeated that I have not the energy to shave my legs.
There is no other way to describe the second pregnancy other than being simply unglamorous. With these harsh realities so vivid in my mind, there is no way to find the bliss that I once had when I was pregnant with Chloe. The first pregnancy was such a dream. I took two or three hour naps whenever I wanted. I got pedicures to rest my tired feet. I had the time to read every book ever written on pregnancy. I was so happy. So full of love. So clueless.
Don't get me wrong, I feel so blessed that God has trusted me to be the Mama of another precious baby. I just wish that I had the time or energy to even think of this baby. I'm so busy working and cleaning and parenting and running around that I forget I'm even pregnant 95% of the time. I realize now that the first pregnancy is such an amazing time in one's life. There is really nothing quite like it.
This pregnancy does have certain benefits, though. Like, I have had less than an hour of my spare time to worry about deformities, rare diseases, miscarriage, etc. compared to the freaky nightly worry spiral I had with Chloe. I'm not worried about the actual birth and "if I can do it," because I know I can, and I'm psyched to do it again. I have a whole closet full of maternity clothes from my first pregnancy and from sweet friends who have given me their hand-me-downs.
I guess, in a sense, the second pregnancy is just as refreshing as it is unglamorous. Knowing what to expect this time gives me a new sense of preparedness. This time I know that I will need help wherever I can get it whether it be meals, babysitters, or a cleaning service. I can't do it all and that is okay. No one expects me to. The only person who expected me to do it all the first time was me. This time I won't be shocked to smell of sour milk more often than not. I will know that breastfeeding will be great once we get through those dark days. I will know that my baby growing up is not quite as devastating as it seems. And I will know that there will be a day when our family will all sleep again.
Paul warned me that I shouldn't write about this, because it might ruin things for my friends who are pregnant for the first time, but I happen to know that it doesn't matter. People can warn you about how hard it is going to be every day that you are pregnant and it won't matter. It is just like "enjoy it now, they grow up so fast." You never really know, or even believe it, until you experience it yourself.
There was nothing about the crazy, hormonal mood swings that follow closely behind the birth. Nothing about feeling sad that I could no longer feel the baby kicking my insides. Nothing about crying in the shower for a half hour just to cry. Nothing about berating my sweet husband for the most minuscule things.
In my vision there was nothing about spraying water from a squirt bottle on my girl parts while trying to pee. There was nothing about the sheer panic associated with "the first poop." There was nothing about suffering through weeks of maxi pads and ice packs. Nothing about stitches tearing and limping up the stairs.
There was nothing about hovering over the baby's crib, heart stopped, waiting for signs that she is still breathing. Nothing about watching her scream as she gets her first vaccinations. Nothing about being so tired and defeated that I have not the energy to shave my legs.
There is no other way to describe the second pregnancy other than being simply unglamorous. With these harsh realities so vivid in my mind, there is no way to find the bliss that I once had when I was pregnant with Chloe. The first pregnancy was such a dream. I took two or three hour naps whenever I wanted. I got pedicures to rest my tired feet. I had the time to read every book ever written on pregnancy. I was so happy. So full of love. So clueless.
Don't get me wrong, I feel so blessed that God has trusted me to be the Mama of another precious baby. I just wish that I had the time or energy to even think of this baby. I'm so busy working and cleaning and parenting and running around that I forget I'm even pregnant 95% of the time. I realize now that the first pregnancy is such an amazing time in one's life. There is really nothing quite like it.
This pregnancy does have certain benefits, though. Like, I have had less than an hour of my spare time to worry about deformities, rare diseases, miscarriage, etc. compared to the freaky nightly worry spiral I had with Chloe. I'm not worried about the actual birth and "if I can do it," because I know I can, and I'm psyched to do it again. I have a whole closet full of maternity clothes from my first pregnancy and from sweet friends who have given me their hand-me-downs.
I guess, in a sense, the second pregnancy is just as refreshing as it is unglamorous. Knowing what to expect this time gives me a new sense of preparedness. This time I know that I will need help wherever I can get it whether it be meals, babysitters, or a cleaning service. I can't do it all and that is okay. No one expects me to. The only person who expected me to do it all the first time was me. This time I won't be shocked to smell of sour milk more often than not. I will know that breastfeeding will be great once we get through those dark days. I will know that my baby growing up is not quite as devastating as it seems. And I will know that there will be a day when our family will all sleep again.
Paul warned me that I shouldn't write about this, because it might ruin things for my friends who are pregnant for the first time, but I happen to know that it doesn't matter. People can warn you about how hard it is going to be every day that you are pregnant and it won't matter. It is just like "enjoy it now, they grow up so fast." You never really know, or even believe it, until you experience it yourself.
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