Tricky

It’s been a year since I found out that we lost Matthew. This time has passed by in tricky ways. On one hand, it feels like we could have just talked on the phone not too long ago; certainly not over a year ago. On the other hand, it feels like an eternity since we’ve hugged or laughed together. I’m not sure when, if ever, I’ll stop feeling like I’m struggling with this loss. To say things are “easier” isn’t really the sentiment I’m feeling in reality. I don’t cry every time I think of him, although admittedly I’m crying now. I guess the reality is that the loss doesn’t feel any easier, but my ability to cope with the overwhelming waves of grief… or by ability to hide the grief I feel when I’m missing his voice… I guess you could say that piece is “easier”. But none of this is easy by definition; not by any stretch of the imagination.

I miss the way he would inexplicably use corny words like “Broheim”. I miss his 90’s fashion sense. I miss his half-smile. I miss being able to call him about random medical issues and talk through things. I miss the way he would try to understand when I would talk about work or life in general, even if it was beyond his understanding. As much as he would talk, he had really learned how to be a better listener the few years before he left us. I miss telling him about Ahsoka, or his comments in our Baby Ahsoka group on FB. I miss hearing the delight in his voice as I would describe (in probably too much detail) her latest milestone or cute moment. But mostly, I miss his laugh. It was this unmistakably familial laugh that reminded me of my dad.

I don’t think today is an anniversary I will honor each year, although these yearly reminders that he’s no longer with us are difficult. Instead, I hope that with each missed holiday, each birthday, each random memory that pops up randomly about him; that I am able to get to the point where I celebrate his life and the ways in which he made my life better for the short period of time we had him with us. But this last year, this has been by far the toughest, and I can’t ignore that. I can’t ignore the ways in which I feel as though I’m missing a huge piece of myself. I can’t help but regret the times that I took him for granted, and how incredibly hard that feels today of all days. And I can’t allow myself to shut these feelings down, even if I’d rather put them off or never deal with them at all. So today I am grieving. Today I am letting myself cry. Today I say, I miss you so much dear brother. I love you, and I hope that in some way you are watching over us with your half smile.

Deep Blue Sea

"We're not going to be able to keep this a secret as long as you'd like."

As I walked into childcare this morning to drop off Ahsoka, our provider says to me "Have you seen 'Deep Blue Sea'"? I haven't, but she quoted the above to me as she looked at my stomach. Now, I haven't been able to find that quote online, but all of that aside, I do look super pregnant for only being nine weeks along. It's not that I'm trying to keep it a secret at work so much as it's not really something I want to share until I hit that 12-16 week mark. While there's still a chance of miscarriage at that time, especially being 38 years old, it's far less likely that it will happen once you reach that point in the pregnancy.

All of that aside, I'm fucking terrible at keeping secrets. And despite my attempt to wear drapey clothing, I definitely have a very pronounced baby bump. The shirt I'm wearing is probably betraying me even more than I realized when I left the house this morning. I'm wearing a pretty loose open cardigan over it, but this is definitely going to be the last time I'm going to get away with wearing this shirt (mostly from a 'I don't want to stretch it out' perspective). I would love to break out the maternity wear, but with all the cinched around the sides, that will only further extenuate the bump. But that's only a matter of time as my waistline (and cup size) continues to expand.

At the end of the day, whether I'm pregnant or not is really no one's business, and I'm certain no one around the office is going to offer the idea that I might be pregnant before I'm ready to share it... But the thing is, I am ready to share it. I'm ready to shout, "Yep, there's a baby in there, and despite looking like I'm at the 20 week mark, we're only at nine weeks! Yep, fast approaching beached whale status over here!" I'm just a little terrified to do that.

These Dreams go on When I Close My Eyes

Well, it's that fun time in the pregnancy where the first trimester pregnancy symptoms are really hammering in that yes, I am pregnant. My least favorite symptoms are matching pretty much exactly what made my last pregnancy slightly miserable - trouble sleeping, feeling constantly hungry, morning (all day) sickness, sore breasts, mood swings, and my absolute favorite... acne.

The pregnancy symptom that I actually do enjoy is, however, extremely vivid dreams. For some reason the theme of the dreams I can remember for the last two nights is mythical (as in as far as I can tell my brain made them up), yet dangerous creatures befriending me; however, I'm still afraid of them despite their obvious friendliness towards me. Maybe that's kind of an allegory for pregnancy - pregnancy, especially as one gets older (me, I'm the one getting older) comes with a certain level of danger. Pregnancy is beautiful, and in the end you get something wonderful from it; however, there are many worries and bumps along the way that cannot be ignored. Ok, so I doubt that my dreams are actually that insightful. I think I just fashion myself an adventurer in my slumber moments. But I'm rattling off these thoughts as they enter into my head, and it made sense as I typed everything out.

The anxiety about the mythical animals or potentially unknown danger (okay, at least one of them was definitely Pokemon inspired - it was like a Mantine mixed with a puppy) is certainly a reflection of my general pregnancy anxiety. Today is is the first day of my eighth week of pregnancy, and today also happens to be our first ultrasound. Today we will find out if the baby is where they should be, growing on track, and has a heartbeat. I would be remiss if I didn't acknowledge that I am anxious about what today means for my family. So I write it all out, and save yet another post to my "pending folder" until we finally reveal to our friends and family that yes, there is indeed a youngling growing in my uterus.

Anywho, for all the things that so far have been nearly exactly like my first pregnancy, there are a couple of subtle (haha, not subtle at all) differences. For one, at eight weeks pregnant, I look to be the same size I was at 16 weeks pregnant the last time (and I showed pretty early the last time too). It's becoming increasingly difficult to hide the fact that I am obviously pregnant between the bump forming under my clothes, and my constant burping from my stomach threatening to lurch every five minutes or so. I also look so tired... because I am so fracking tired! I've never been a good napper, not even during my pregnancy, but I have had no such issues this time around. Thank goodness my toddler is still napping because I certainly need that time in the afternoons on the weekends. My weekday work week, however, is still sadly nap free (despite my deep desire to nap every afternoon).