So I’m showing good and proper. Enough that strangers are tentatively asking about it in public. The smart friends from my last post told me the second time around you start to show much earlier because your body knows exactly what to do. Heck, I had already gotten a little belly when I found out I miscarried last fall near the end of the first trimester. During my first pregnancy I didn’t even put on a piece of maternity clothing until Mother’s Day when I was about 23 weeks. I’m 21 weeks now and I’ve been rocking maternity garb for weeks. Due to my aversion to food during the first half of pregnancy I’m just now approaching my pre-pregnancy weight. I’m tubby when not pregnant, so you’d think I’d be grateful to not gain tons during pregnancy, but sincerely the nausea and vomiting is not worth it. It’s not like I’m keeping a girlish figure, I’m still tubby so who cares if I’m super tubby or just kind of tubby, you know? I would happily be super tubby if I didn’t have to feel like utter garbage.
In fact, I threw up yesterday morning. Hard. I’d just gotten out of the shower and into my undies when it happened. And one of the many charming things that happen to me when I’m pregnant is I pee a little when I vomit. Or sneeze. Or cough really hard. Seriously. I was angry that I was throwing up at 21 weeks to begin with. And then I realized the undies I had on were my only clean pair, I mean they were clean for less than two minutes and then they weren’t clean anymore. So I started the week going commando until I did laundry. I’m not going to lie, there were tears. It was kind of a gross day all around. Someone very close to me was accidently unkind. There were more tears. Thankfully there was also a call to Z, who was awesome and said all the right things. God, I love that guy. And my extremely mild and nothing to worry about asthma flared up, which meant a volley of phone calls to the ObGyn's and my GP. Honestly, I knew it was probably not a big deal, but I was worried. The nice thing is doctors see pregnant ladies really fast so I got an appointment at my GP's and my lung function was tested and is normal. Hopefully a few days of the inhaler will do the trick and get me feeling better.
Obviously nothing seriously awful happened, but I was in a funk yesterday. At the end of the day as Z and I sat on the sofa the New Guy started moving around. I grabbed Z’s hand and threw it on my belly and Z felt New Guy for the first time. That did turn things around for me. Enough that I was feeling brave this morning. I’m not a dress or skirt gal, but when I’m pregnant I really don’t like wearing pants. I have a maternity dress with ¾ sleeves, but I hadn’t put it on yet. Because my mom and sister gave it to me last summer before we found out I lost the baby. Part of the way my crazy manifests is I assign “luck” to the objects in my life. The dress felt cursed to me. Even though I was sure I would have a miscarriage today I screwed up all my courage and put it on. And I did not have a miscarriage. It’s almost 9pm and I’m still wearing the dress and nothing terrible has happened. In fact, this day has been light years better than yesterday. And if I’m trying to be positive I should point out being pregnant at almost the exact same of year the second time around saves a lot of money. I really don’t have to get any new maternity clothes.
Yes, me being positive. And wearing the dress I was scared to wear. Two good things for today. I'm going to go ahead and call it a victory.
As someone with severe self esteem issues I am pretty careful about what pictures I post of myself. This is along the lines of what I deem acceptable-hiding behind a hat and sweater. Of course you can't really see the dress.
And here is the non-cursed dress. Z forced me to take off both the sweater and hat. Posting this is very much outside my comfort zone. But I'm trying to be brave.
Moving on to something much more light hearted...We use this pottery canister as a trash can in our living room. Suddenly T decided he needed to be in it.
And then he figured out he could pull his books of the bookcase from his new location.
Mission accomplished. And then he started shaking the bookcase. That's when I ended his little game and declared the trash can off limits. He was pretty bummed.