Forgive me for not writing sooner. There's much to be said about the differences between a first pregnancy and a second pregnancy. Especially those pregnancies that are less than a year apart. With your sister, Hazel, I had plenty of time to document and yes... wallow... in every aspect of the pregnancy. I could write about how the smell of canned corn made me want to throw the can at your Daddy's head. I could talk in detail about every detectable feeling of nausea and every time I felt a tiny movement inside my ever-expanding waistline. I talked in great length about my cravings of hard-boiled eggs, watermelon and orange juice.
But with this pregnancy? With you? I've been more than slightly remiss in documenting. But I have two good reasons.
1 - Your sister doesn't leave me a whole lot of time for pondering all of the wonders that is the pregnancy. I don't get the luxury of falling asleep at any time, in any place. Or being nauseous and not wanting to even think about food. When I come home from work, my day isn't even close to being over, as it was during the first pregnancy. In short, I don't really get to wallow in this pregnancy. Because the minute I do, your sister will be in the bathroom cabinet (that has not yet been baby-proofed) eating the AJAX.
And I guess that somehow you know this? Because...
2 - Were it not for the fact that I've seen several sonograms and heard your heartbeat repeatedly at said sonograms... and were it not for the fact that I started showing at like 4 weeks? I would NEVER know I was pregnant. No cravings. No super sniffer that's requiring the ban of certain foods or household pets in my vicinity. However, I will say that for the first trimester, I had an overall feeling of nausea just kind of lurking below the surface pretty much the entire time. Nothing that would prevent me from eating or anything (my waistline thus far can attest to this) but always there... lingering. It doesn't help that midway through the first trimester the whole house went through a bit of the stomach flu. Keep in mind, Squirt, that it takes a special something to get your Mommy to actually toss her cookies. And usually that something lands her in the hospital for three days. So when my turn with the stomach flu came through, I fought it. And fought it. And fought it.
And failed miserably. But, at least I got it out of my system. And I feel like I can still declare that I have never thrown up due to a pregnancy.
But, I digress. To put it more fairly, this pregnancy is completely different from the first one. I guess that's the most notable part of carrying you, so far. It makes me wonder every day what you're going to be like and how you're going to be different from your sister.
I suspect that you, my dear, are going to be a pretty laid-back little baby. But I also predict that of our little family, you're going to be the Tender Heart. Your sister... she's the Playful Heart. I can say this because while she caused me a ton of heartburn (of which you've completely skipped thus far... preferring to go straight to the acid reflux, thankyouverymuch), you've actually caused me a lot of absolutely unnecessary tearing up. Over anything and everything. And sometimes these random tearing up leads to full on bawlfests... for NO. GOOD. REASON.
It doesn't matter if it's a commercial about coffee, adopting a dog from the shelter, or a good price on milk. It's beginning to get a bit ridiculous. As evidenced by my emotional breakdown at the airport last week. I missed a connecting flight from Phoenix to Flagstaff. Entirely not my fault... other than the fact that I elected to go with US Airways initially and SHOULD HAVE KNOWN BETTER.
Anyway... it's not like I've never missed a flight. And it's not like it was a big deal. It really wasn't.
Except... except when I went to the ticket counter to get rescheduled on the next flight I broke down and sobbed. SOBBED, I tell you. I had just run a full-out sprint (as much as I could, in fact, sprint) from Terminal A to Terminal B. And something about my adrenaline spiking at perhaps the same time as my hormones? Well... this is all supposition, but there was SOMETHING going on there. And the result was your Mommy blubbering like a 10-month old and trying to explain to the agent that "Really... I'm fine. Just need a moment. I'm not even upset." And yet, these words are pretty much meaningless when mascara is running down your face and snot is leaking out of your nose and you just can't seem to get control of your affect so that it actually matches what you're feeling and trying to express to those innocent souls around you who have suddenly found themselves trying to calm a hysterical pregnant woman... who knows there's no reason for the hysteria and yet, can't. stop. crying.
The good news, I suppose, is that the agent felt bad for me and I scored a free water and an exit row seat on my next flight. I'm not sure if it was the emotional breakdown (which, btw... everyone in line stared. yes. they. did.) or the fact that I told her I was 4 months pregnant with a 10 month old at home and she figured I needed something to help me cope!
So, yes... right now I'm currently riding a tide of tender emotions... all of which I'm blaming you for. And I can't wait to see if my prediction is correct. And I really hope that once you come to join us, this doesn't mean that you're going to be crying more than your sister did the first month of her life... because honestly, I'm not sure that's even possible.
Monday, September 20, 2010
Thursday, September 16, 2010
I wonder... if we just put spaghetti sauce on all the foods we try to trick you in to eating... vile stuff like chicken, eggs or strawberries... would you at least give it a try before spitting it out of your mouth, deeming it unworthy of your royal tastebuds and banishing it from your sight while expressly forbidding anything other than spaghetti and bananas from coming near you ever again?