Hidden Perks of Pregnancy 2.0: There’s not really any baby stuff I need to get ready. The crib is already built, the clothes are all neatly sorted by size and style from when I packed them after Hanna outgrew them. So this time, I get to use my nesting impulse to fix up my craft area.
Pregnancy 2.0. It’s strange how completely different, and yet completely the same, the experience is. Once I got over the initial shock of wow, this is really happening again, it quickly became, well, now I just have to get through it. People ask me how I’m doing, or how far along I am, and I really have no idea. I don’t have time to think about it. I’m working and then coming home and taking care of Hanna, and I don’t have time to think about my second child. They’re not causing any trouble yet. As long as I’m not puking, I just keep loosening my clothes and carrying on. My doctor always asks at my appointments if I have any concerns or questions, and I always tell her yes, but not about the pregnancy. As long as we keep hearing a heartbeat and I keep gaining weight, the pregnancy can take care of itself. What happens when the baby is born? How will Hanna react? How will I find time for them both? Will Hanna finally start using the toilet reliably before the baby gets here? With all of my new responsibility at work, what will happen when I’m on maternity leave? Will Hanna and baby cooperate for the Christmas card photo shoot? (Because I totally have that all planned out already and it will be awesome.)
But there is one way that pregnancy is definitely affecting me. I feel no guilt in saying no. I remember with Hanna, I kept trying valiantly to keep going at the same pace, no matter how tired and sick I felt, and that probably ended up making me feel a lot sicker. This time, I don’t care what people think of me. When I’m tired, I’m tired. I didn’t know what tired was until I tried keeping up with an energetic 2 and a half year old with her sibling in my belly, but now I do and it doesn’t mess around. When I’m done, I’m done, and I make no excuses. Yes I will let you bring me a foot rest and a glass of water. Yes I will let you carry my bag. I’m doing enough work already and I will gladly let you help. I am human, and I have limits, and those limits are nothing to be ashamed of. Motherhood has taught me many things, but the biggest thing I have learned is not to be ashamed. I have given birth, and I will do it again, and I am not afraid, and after that experience I know my body is never anything to be ashamed of or embarrassed by, no matter the scars or what shape it ends up, or whether society thinks I have too much hair in the wrong places, or wrinkles its nose at me because I smell like sweat instead of flowers. I had to let go of my fear of disapproval, because I had more important things to do. And that gives me the strength to be weak when I need to be, and to admit when I am tired and need help. Because if I don’t take care of myself, I can’t take care of my children, and they need me. There is nothing like being truly, honestly needed to make you take stock of your priorities.
As she was trying to tuck herself into bed: “Ugh. Ugh! The blanket’s stuck. I want it on my body. Help! Help!”
Well, that’s one mystery of the universe solved. If you’re looking for any missing socks, come check out my dryer. I think it’s the other end of the mystic sock portal. We’ve now had three different lone socks show up in the wash that no one in the house has seen before.
Quotes from the Backyard
I so happy, I need to blow bubbles!
You have your feet on the ground, I don’t need to have my feet on the ground.
I need to ride my bicycle!
No toes, I need to wear my rainboots. (In the 80 degree heat, no less!)
I need to go back outside and knock on the door.
Ryan just made my favorite supper of all time (French toast), which he brought to me on the couch so I could eat with my feet up. He then gave Hanna a bath, because she got maple syrup all over her face, and he brushed her hair and her teeth, and is now upstairs reading her a bedtime story, all while I’m still on the couch with my feet up. I think he just won Sweetie of the Year.
Hanna is playing a game (at least, I think it’s a game) wherein she stands looking at herself in the mirror and takes her hat off of her head, then yells at her reflection very loudly and angrily to give the hat back. I can’t tell if she knows it’s her reflection or not. She seems very upset at being deprived of her hat.
Car Trips With Toddlers
“I wanna get out and walk.”
“It’s my turn to drive now.”
Throws book on the floor: “I want my book back.”
“I wanna go back to the beach.”
“I want my shoes off.”
“Sand! I have sand!!”
“I want my stick back!”
While Pregnant Mama (TM) tries desperately not to throw up on twisty mountain roads: “You ok, Mama? You want to read me my book, Mama?”
“Lookit this hiding in the bushes!”
“We go through another tunnel?”
“I wanna get out and walk!”
Let me tell you, I came close to granting that last request on more than one occasion. But I’m glad she enjoyed the beach, even if the ocean itself was a little overwhelming for her. But she found a stream crossing the beach that she splashed in happily, and found all sorts of interesting rocks, which she insisted on bringing home. Hopefully the park rangers won’t get too mad at us for that one. To be fair, the sign said stay away from the rocks that the seals are nesting on, not stay away from all the rocks. And I didn’t see any seals today, so I think we’re probably safe.
One thing I’ve noticed about this pregnancy is that I’m increasingly sensitive to smells. I don’t remember that from the first time. I had nausea the first time too, but the triggers were different. So I’ve mentioned to Ryan several times that amoung other things, that while I normally love fish, the smell of seafood really sets me off right now. Cue tonight’s dinner:
Me: Oh my god, I’m glad it’s warm enough to open the door.
Ryan: Why?
Me: You’re cooking fish.
Ryan: Yeah? You like fish.
Me: Not while pregnant I don’t. Don’t you remember me saying how the smell of seafood makes me sick?
Ryan: Yeah, but this isn’t seafood. It’s freshwater.
I have no words. If I make it through the next six months with an intact husband, it will be a miracle.
Hanna: I don’t want to sleep in my crib.
Mama: That’s right honey, you don’t sleep in your crib anymore. You sleep in your bed now.
Hanna: You make it?
Mama: That’s right Hanna, I will make your bed for you.
Hanna: You make it all snuggly?
Mama: Yes Hanna, I will make your bed all snuggly.
