End of the second trimester

28 weeks

Doctor’s orders – I have been relegated to bed. Well, doctor’s and Wesley’s and just for the afternoon. We had a scan last week (all looking good. Bubble at ~50th percentile, currently no polyhydramnios, movement as expected but still transverse) and I mentioned I was having ‘rather a lot of Braxton Hicks, but this is normal, right?’. The doctor said no, nothing too concerning, but it was soon. We talked about the importance of rest (the nurse said ‘Are you still working?’ – Girlfriend, this is the US. I’ll be working in labor and again soon after!) and carried on with the scan. While scanning the nurse noticed how strong and how frequent my Braxton Hicks were, and worried a little more. She asked if I was a ‘Type A’ person and when Wes responded to the affirmative (why do I ever think it will  be a good idea to take him with me??) a lengthy lecture ensued on how how Type A people are problems and how they don’t relax enough and how the house should just be left – I was to work, but then at the end of the work day I was to rest.

Alien baby. AKA one of those pictures parents think is adorable and the rest of the world can’t make out / get scared by.

Hello? I have a toddler. And a large house with a garden. That has a toddler in it. And I’m nesting. With a toddler. Did I mention I had a toddler? They don’t tend to respond well to ‘hey, Mom is tired, why don’t you just open yourself a bag of crisps for dinner and sit quietly? Perhaps you could bath yourself and put yourself to bed before, say, 8?”, Apart from the crisps part. Sam would happily comply with that.

Why I don’t rest. This is him taking his scooter up the stairs of the water slide.

Anyway, Wes came back from getting the car detailed to find me following up 3 hysterical texts with a babbling about how we were never going to get the house in order for the cleaner coming. He looked around at 2 previously horrendous and now immaculate rooms (including a throughly cleaned and organized larder) and glanced regretfully down at his new fish purchases, seeing his Sunday of leisure fly away before his eyes. “You’ve been working hard haven’t you?”. “Yes! Of course! It’s never going to get done!”. He sighed. “OK, here is the deal. We set a timer for an hour, you go to bed for an hour, and I clear up. At the end of the hour, if you still think the house won’t be ready you can get back after it”. Seemed fair enough, so here I am in bed.

The second half of the second trimester has been way better. My exhaustion has eased somewhat and I can do some work and run the house a little. I don’t feel like I have the ‘flu 24/7. My nausea is minimized. I have found changing my diet up a bit has helped – adding in more protein, reducing fat, and lots of lots of salads, although I still think I have too much caffeine. I have also been seeing a great chiropractor who has made a big difference to my back pain. The heat (100 degrees and counting) and humidity is a challenge, but hey, that’s what air conditioning and pools are for, right? I am even considering finding time to go back to the gym as I am quite disappointed by how inactive I have been this pregnancy.

37 weeks with Sam

27 weeks with Bubble

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I have suddenly grown – however. I walked passed a mirror with no top on the other day was did a double take – I am pretty sure I look quite like I did at 37 weeks with Sam. I wouldn’t mid, but with 12 more to go I am worried about how far this is going to go (!). Cliche though it is someone *actually* asked me the other day “how many are in there”. Bloody cheek! For those that care, I have gained ~15 lbs which is not bad for 28 weeks, so I’m not worried about it. Just generally disconcerted and surprised by the number of spaces I can no longer squeeze through.

And, I am oscillating between tearful sadness that this will be my last child, and my last pregnancy (Wes decrees it is so) and my dream of 3 children is ending soon, and cold, soul gripping fear at how we will manage with 2. I really do go between the two. I sit here in bed and think about how I always wanted 3 children, how I pictured them (although I pictured 2 older boys, 2 years apart and then a little girl 4 years later… so it was never going to be anyway), how I always thought it would be that way… And then I think about the practicalities of how it can take 2 of us to manage him at a party, and how hectic the mornings can get, and I wonder how we are going to deal with 2 in these situations. Of course we will, and many do, and many do with twins, triplets and more. But, you know, there is still some trepidation.

It’s not always like this you know

Plus, it is nice to think about clearing out all the crap you have to store (fits with my crazy nesting instinct). We can slowly starting giving away / donating the car seats, bouncers, pack n plays, endless clothes etc. I am starting to think about how it will be nice to have the time and motivation to get fit again (a looooong way down the line, I am sure, and I am OK with that). And how I am slowly regaining my sense of me 2.5 years into Sam’s life (loving make-up, trying to hair styles, making some vague nod to fashion, even wearing – gasp – perfume), but I know it will go in the haze of postpartum life in a body that doesn’t feel mine so it will be nice to eventually get that back (again, a  long way down the road, I am sure). It’s positive, it’s just not how I pictured it.

Roll on the third trimester! These next 12 (I hope 12!) weeks will fly by, and I pray I will have some time to savor them too.

EDIT: OH MY. Lest anyone doubt I am bigger this time around and want to say ‘it is all in your mind’; this is how I looked at 29 weeks with Sam:

29 weeks with Sam

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Methinks the “secret” that I wasn’t very good about maintaining an active lifestyle between kiddos is out ;-). Oh well, I like to think I made better hair decisions this time around at least.

21 weeks – nesting

20 weeks

Half way there. It feels great, I can’t wait to meet this little girl (although, obviously, please keep baking for a hood while longer). The sickness clears more and more each week – and I feel my old brain come back more and more. It has been nice not only to be able to focus on work when needed, but to enjoy doing so.

This pregnancy is different from Sam. Although I am less hungry, and seem to eat less, I am putting on more weight – 10 lbs so far. I don’t mind really, but I try to be mindful of only eating when I am hungry and stopping when I am full. Other than that, the second trimester (so far) has been characterized by exhaustion and nesting – neither of which I really felt with Sam.

The exhaustion is mind-blowing. By 9 am I feel like my limbs are heavy and my head is already fuzzy with tiredness. The physical exhaustion seems to be accompanied by a general malaise: everything seems like too much effort. A blog post? Too much. Do some crafting? Can’t lift this mass off the sofa to get to my crafting room. I have spent a lot of time on the internet surfing around, ‘pinning’ pictures for the nursery and watching TV (Parenthood is my current binge watch of choice).

Binge watching buddy

It is sort of sad because Wes is determined that this will be my last pregnancy, so I had decided to full revel in it, in a way I couldn’t with Sam as so much was going on (new marriage, new job, new state, new house… yeah, not sure I would recommend that as a course of action).  And I love looking back and reading my posts about being pregnant with Sam (if that sounds weird, I am generally obsessed with pregnancy blogs), so I know I’ll regret not having more for Bubble.

But the tiredness is pervasive and unexpected. It might be because I am chasing around after an (adorable) toddler, or it might be because, as expected, I am bigger this time around

21 weeks with Sam

21 weeks with Bubble

Or

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

because work has been harder, or because I am 100% less fit going into this endeavor (think 1/2 marathon running body builder benchpressing her bodyweight vs. struggling with a 5K and doing 10bs weight while walking on the treadmill). Doubtless it is a combination of all these things. But it also feels different, this pregnancy (almost as if my 1.5 children are totally different individuals 😉 ). The other sad upshot is that I have been having caffeine every day, which I have been really trying to limit to one cup a day. Not always 100% successful if I am honest. And I am also cramming sugar into my mouth to help with the tiredness. So yes, I’ll take my tea with a side of McVities Caramel Digestives and a dose of guilt, thanks.

Have also developed a teapot obsession. This one was $100 (!). That’s maybe a topic for another post.

Wes is often on at me to ‘slow down’ and spending time doing nothing immediately productive has been a fun discovery. Discomforting but fun.

The other major difference to Sam’s pregnancy is nesting (not hugely compatible with exhaustion, I have to say). Serious nesting. I never understood what nesting was, and really thought it was just a fancy name given to people who wanted to decorate their nursery, or some such. Ha! Now I know. Now I know that it is fixating on every little out-of-place object. It is feeling deep discomfort that WE HAVE NOWHERE TO SORT OUR MAIL – and demanding hysterically to know: what are we, Savages? It is staring at a PC lying quietly in the corner of the room and hearing it mock you until you scream “I can’t take it anymore” drag it into the garage. None of this happened. OK. All of this happened.

Wes pressure washing the house. An essential home task, I felt.

Luckily Wes has been supportive – think two IKEA tips on his own. And pressure washing the house. And building a bed for my Mum who  is coming immediately in August. Why, you ask? Either (a) He feels sorry for me, as I have been dragging my ass out of bed at 6 am and cleaning like a crazy person until 8, while also getting ready for work and getting Sam ready for school. Picture me, toast wedged between teeth, mug of tea in hand, wielding a duster while potty-ing a toddler; (b) He likes the result and wants to contribute to it; (c) he can’t take the nagging; or (d) he is having an affair with a lady who doesn’t need chub run in the Texas heat and feels guilty about it (I did get flowers this week. Hmmmm). IN THE END I DON’T CARE. As long as he is hanging up our chalkboard mail sorter, dressing windows and choosing rugs, I am good with the motivation.

And, while the nesting is genuinely stressful and exhausting, I am glad it is here for a minute. I have cleaned out almost every room, coordinated all the upstairs to a palette of grey, white, blue and yellow, got the downstairs functional and cute and our home is now just that: our home – not an impersonal house. The kid(s) (

Greatest thing ever

So… I’m wondering, with he house furnishings budget depleted to nearly nothing, and the cleaning covered, what I am going to spend up to 2 hours a day doing now? What will be my new ‘thing‘? What on Earth will I nag Wesley about? Can our marriage take the strain of a tidy house? Probably. I am sure there is something else I can obsess over.

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Second trimester

This makes it all worth it, right?

It’s been a rough ride to get to 18 weeks. It started out so well – I was way more relaxed about the whole pregnancy than I was with Sam. With Sam there was this constant disbelief that my body would actually grow and birth a baby and while I was not sure that something would go wrong, I lived in fear of it. I was lucky enough that my first pregnancy went well, and so I went into my second pregnancy aware of the statistics, but more relaxed, more confident. No pestering doctors, no terror about a single – gasp – caffeinated drink. I just relaxed into it. More than that: I looked forward to it.

12 weeks – really?

Sam’s pregnancy was consumed with choosing a job, finishing up a postdoc, findgin a home, buy a home, packing up an apartment, moving to a new state, starting a new job – by the time all that was done and I felt vaguely settled I was well into my third trimester and the whole thing had passed. I’m a pintrest-er and a scrapbook-er and a project life-r and a blogger and and and…  and there were no weekly photographs with kitchy chalkboard, no announcements, baby books – I barely even blogged about it. I was looking forward to this pregnancy being different – Wes has made me swear that it will be my last (which breaks my heart), so I wanted to document it!

But then there was the spotting, and the sudden blood loss, and then the vomiting, so much vomiting, until 24 hours of keeping nothing down had passed, and I threw up a lone popsicle. So then there was the hospital and the doctors, and the weeks of it continung, and the isolation and the fear of getting behind – so behind – at work, and the worry about losing earnings, and the heartbreak of not being able to be with Sam, and the talk of zofran pumps, but the need to wait until after week 9 for insurance reasons and UGH, I couldn’t lift my head without heaving so I certainly wasn’t taking any photos or writing any blog posts. And I thought I would go back and do it retrospectively but I find myself pretty unwilling to revisit that time.

But then, at 10 weeks, I could at least get myself into work and keep the vomiting down to a few times a day. And I could function, if somewhat unwillingly. I could be around my son without the smell of him making me hurl. I could contemplate a few foods that sounded good to me.

17 weeks

And then at week 16 the vomiting stopped and my brain seemed to return and I thought – yes, I can enjoy this now, I can look forward to it. I might even write a blog post or two about it 🙂