I’ve had a couple of people ask recently whether I still have my blog, so I figured it was about time that made good on it and actually, you know, write.
Whenever life is sad or stressful, this is often the first place that I come — putting my feelings in public forum seems like the appropriate response to dealing with the storms inside of my head. When I’m calm and centered, though, it’s so much harder for me to share my joys with the world. I’m not sure whether that is because whenever life is going well, I just don’t have that insatiable urge to write, or whether I’m attuned to others’ struggles and feel guilty sharing my joy. A little of both, perhaps.
At any rate, #1 on my To Do List this 3-day weekend was to dust off the ol’ keyboard and come back to this space on the internet. As I was making my coffee this morning (my ONE daily cup, preggo police) I was thinking about how this time last year I was on the cusp of turning 30, and how momentous that seemed. I turn 31 on Tuesday, and my birthday completely slipped my mind until last week when I looked at the calendar and realized that it is almost June. Life just seems so much bigger now, and I’ve been more focused on the quickly-arriving birthday of the little one who is contentedly tap dancing on my bladder right now.
Last time I wrote, I was about 10 weeks pregnant and solidly in the throws of the first trimester. Amid the unrelenting nausea, I still found it hard to comprehend that I did not, in fact, have an intestinal parasite, but rather a tiny person inside of me. Even after seeing our first ultrasound, I still couldn’t get past the disbelief of it all. We had our 19 week ultrasound a few weeks ago and that really solidified things for me: we are going to have our very own, human baby. You’d think after 4 months of knowing this, it would have sunk in. But it took seeing those tiny feet with its daddy’s long toes on the ultrasound screen for things to finally seem real.
We opted not to find out the gender, which has been less difficult than I anticipated. I’m the type of person who spends the entire month of December pestering Brendan to give me hints about what he got me for Christmas, so I thought for sure I would change my mind and want to know. We are both content in our decision to find out at the delivery. As an adult, there are so few good surprises in life and I think there is something beautiful in not knowing. Besides, from what I understand there is a ‘no exchange’ policy with babies. We do have names picked out, but we aren’t telling anyone. Sorry friends and family, we love you, we just don’t want your unfiltered opinions!
Despite the growing discomfort, the second trimester has felt like a vacation compared to the first. Albeit, a vacation where you eat Tums around the clock and pee every hour on the hour. The baby has been kicking away for a few weeks now, which is just the coolest thing ever. Feeling him/her move around in there always brings a goofy, sappy smile to my face even when it’s keeping me awake in the middle of the night.
I’m constantly in amazement at the weird things that happen to you throughout pregnancy. For example: yesterday while standing at the Apple Genius Bar I experienced my first episode of “lightning crotch” which made me audibly gasp and garnered a look of concern from the college-aged tech guy. If you are unfamiliar with this sensation, it feels exactly as the name implies.
Another case in point: the urge to nest. I got up at 2 AM the other night because I absolutely, positively HAD to write down my To Do list which contained important, life-altering tasks such as “buy new light fixtures for the bedrooms”. The overwhelming desire to dust every surface in my home has never been stronger, and I’m a bit of a neat freak to begin with. A strange phenomenon, this pregnancy.
My nurturing instinct must be kicking in as well, because I’m a fully-fledged Plant Lady these days. For 30 years, I could not for the life of me understand my mother’s love of gardening — why someone would choose to touch dirt was beyond comprehension. I now have potted plants in every room of the house, including the laundry room. I went to Lowe’s last week to buy wood glue, and like a moth to a flame I found myself mindlessly roaming the plant aisles and wondering why the hell I had come here in the first place. I left with wood glue, and no less than a dozen succulents.
I’m a high-anxiety person to begin with so I assumed my neuroticism would be exacerbated during pregnancy, but it’s actually been quite the opposite. If anything, I’ve probably been a little too laid back about it all. I think I used up several years’ worth of anxiety while trying to get pregnant, and now I’m just content to kick back and let things happen as they will.
I’ve done exactly zero parenting research on carseats, breastfeeding, birth plans, registry items, etc. I know I should care more, but honestly, I just don’t. Life is stressful enough without getting sucked into the online battles of mommy warfare. Plus there is definitely some comfort in knowing that regardless of whether I exclusively breastfeed and cloth diaper and use only organic products, one day we will have a moody teenager that swears we are the absolute worst parents on the face of the earth. So here’s to doing the best we can, and finding a way to screw it up anyways!