Sorry blogfans. (Read: sorry, parents.) I have been inattentive and in a wholly non-blogging mood. Mostly because we are very busy doing completely normal things and that doesn’t always make for spectacular reading material.
What does make for the most gripping of anecdotes is the nature of pregnancy symptoms. However, in my ever-present efforts to “be a lady” (oh, I’ve been trying and failing for the past twenty years), I must refrain from sharing too much with you. Someone needs to write a book … or blog, I guess, if you’d want to be really post-modern about it, over blogging about pregnancy delicately. I try to be delicate in my writing – to not say anything that will embarrass my mom, to not say anything while I’m completely angry or worked up over something, and to not say anything that will come back to bite me when I’m rich and famous. But if you’ve ever been pregnant and given birth, you know that there isn’t much delicacy to be found in the entire process. I mean, from the beginning you’re urinating on a stick for crying out loud, and then maybe if you’re someone who’s not me, saying some curse words involving birth control (or maybe about not taking birth control). I don’t know, that’s just what I hear. So, if you’d like to really dig up some blogging gold, come talk to me privately sometime about my pregnancy and post-pregnancy mishaps.
In the mean time, all I can say is I apologize to any concerned citizens who saw me puking on my front porch this morning. You try being a lady in that situation. In all seriousness though, my pregnancy symptoms have been better (?) this go around. I don’t know. My nausea isn’t so bad – it’s not ever-present like it was last time. I’d call this version something more like “Sneak Attack” or “Hit and Run”… “Shock and Awe”, I don’t know. As far as fatigue, I was ONE BILLION times more tired during this first trimester than the last pregnancy. Of course, this trimester I was also caring for an infant whereas last time I was just trying to keep down as many Dairy Queen hand-dipped cones as I possibly could. Thankfully, that’s fading as I enter my second trimester (winner in last year’s “Favorite Trimester” category). I do feel more
angry ready to lash out at anyone who looks at me wrong emotional during this pregnancy. My husband has been so kind as to publicly counter this feeling every time I mention it to someone, claiming that I was “just as crazy” last time. Helpful.
Since it’s been almost two months since our surprise, I forgot that it was sort of shocking when we found out that I was already pregnant again. That we’d be having babies 17 months apart. And so when I let the news out it took me by surprise when every one was… well, shocked. Thankfully, the comments like “But Knox is so little”, the pitying looks/laughter, and the downright rude insights into how much fun it won’t be to have two babies have subsided. As has the fleeting guilt I felt when I first found out – I know other moms have felt this, too. Whether planned or unplanned, the news of second baby is sometimes followed by this silly feeling of guilt. I say it’s silly not because I felt it at all or that others do, but because it is completely illogical. The argument of ‘not being able to enjoy’ the first child in his/her different stages of growth after the next one comes is like saying parents of twins can only appreciate one twin at a time. And if you think about it, the poor second child (who is loved just as much) never has a chance to be ‘the only baby’ and get all the attention – should I feel guilty about that later, too? No, thankfully I got over it after a day or so. But it was there and very real for one late, sleepless night after my discovery.
Now, I can’t imagine us not adding to our family right now. I am so excited to have another baby and to have this one grow up so close to Knox. Knox will be a good big brother, I can already tell. He is such a sweet baby and I know he will enjoy having a playmate soon. Whether or not he will be delicate with said playmate is another concern, but I guess we can work on it together.
Sometimes my friend Marie and I joke about how we are pitied because we are so young and already have two children (well, I’m still working on #2, but you know) but how we will laugh when, in five to ten years, we’re completely done with things like morning sickness and formula and all our friends are complaining about their prenatals making them puke up their breakfasts and 3 a.m. feedings. We’ll probably be too busy to do more than chuckle, though, as we’re driving the kids to ballet or baseball or karate and paying for skateboards and helmets and stitches. But then we’ll really be having a good old laugh as we rest after the kids have graduated and gone and our friends are frustrated when their kids back into their garage doors with their new cars and fail freshman math. Or course, we’ll be getting college loan bills in the mail and calls about meeting “this great guy who’s in a band that’s like, really going places”, so the laughter may be more along the lines of insane cackling, but I’m sure it’ll be just fine.
Maybe it really is just insane to become a parent, anyway. Who thinks, “You know, it’s just not enough to be responsible for my own welfare, choices and consequences, I think I’d really like to create a new life and be responsible for it too in a world with roller coasters, serial killers, Jersey Shore, sororities and Smirnoff. And then I think I’ll do it a few more times”?
Ooooooooh but it’s so great. See?
HEY GUMMI HEY! Please excuse the Gumminess – this was at about 10 weeks, which means Gummi Bear was TINY! S/he is about 3″ long now. I hope I get another sonogram at my next appointment. It’s just too fun.