The Child

I had my 20 week ultrasound for little Babs (we call her Babs because we still refer to our toddler as "Baby", and don't want to confuse her). Babs is healthy and on schedule! But most importantly, I am now half-way through my pregnancy. WOOT! Admittedly, I have already hit the point in pregnancy that every pregnant woman tends to hit deep into their third trimester - I am just done with it. I'm tired, sore, a bit overwhelmed, and ready to have a healthy baby. But I have 20 more weeks to go. I can be patient, but boy am I having a tough time this go around. I suspect that it has to do with aging.

Since baby is healthy, and I'm mostly healthy; I think I can largely attribute the difficulty and discomfort this time around to the fact that I'm pushing 39. My body is like "ENOUGH!" Don't worry body, we'll get back to our usual non-baby self in... I don't know, 2-3 years? I mean, it's not like you have the baby and, BOOM, body back to normal. There's breastfeeding for a minimum of a year (although possibly much longer as baby will dictate). there's the fact that it can take a couple of years for the uterus to go back down to the original size, and then there's the post-pregnancy and breastfeeding and weaning hormones. Dude, hormones are mother-fuckers. They can really throw things out of whack.

But I digress. I'm super excited to be at this next stage of pregnancy, and now that I know the baby's sex, I'm already debating a list of geeky-inspired names for the child. Oh man, maybe instead of referring to her as Babs, I should start calling her "The Child". Or "Baby Yoda". Okay, "Yoda" would also confuse Ahsoka since he's one of her favorite characters in her Star Wars board book. Seriously, if you want your toddler to start loving Star Wars early this is the book to add to their collection:

While I always encourage people to support their local book store, you can find it on Amazon HERE. You're welcome.

I Don't Understand Fashion

In today's random observation of pregnancy fashion, I just do not understand pregnancy jumpers (not to be confused with the British term for sweaters, but actual one-piece outfits that you have to take off from the top down). Especially since pregnancy, at least for me, comes with a fair amount of running to the bathroom almost every hour of the day, I feel like this fashion trend makes little to no sense for the average pregnant woman. Does the material shown below look lovely? Absolutely. But can I imagine my preggo ass looking flattering in said outfit? Not even a little bit. Aside from this very lovely model, who would?

Don't get me wrong, I don't really understand fashion or am very fashionable even when not pregnant. But for pregnancy, I'm mostly sticking to leggings and either oversized t-shirts for home, or leggings and dresses for work. Whatever is comfortable and soft as possible is my go to. Boring, probably. But pregnant or not, comfort is my priority above all else. I do love dressing cute, but that cute dress better have some functional pockets!

And that ends my rant for the morning. Carry on.

Never Tell Me The Odds

When someone at work tells you that you look like you're about ready to have your baby, and you're only 18 weeks in...

Okay, so maybe I'm already feeling a little bit self-conscious anyways, but can we call agree that talking to a pregnant woman about how she looks should be taken off the table? Or maybe just in general, pregnant or not, can we stop making assumptions about other people's bodies? I'm trying my best here, but sometimes it's a little discouraging as I've had several comments recently about my weight. I eat healthy, I walk daily, I chase after a very active toddler daily. Some women just get big during pregnancy, especially shorter women with short waistlines like myself.

A New Adventure Awaits

Well, we officially went publicly official that I'm pregnant last week. There's a mixture of feelings that come with sharing with the wider circle of friends and family that you're expecting a baby. On one hand, it makes things seem even more real (because at this stage in pregnancy, between the nausea and exhaustion, I still manage to forget that I'm pregnant). On the other hand, all of the congratulatory notes are overwhelming, and I want to hide in a cave the rest of the pregnancy. I'm excited to finally be able to talk about it publicly. I've been holding back baby-related Twitter rants. I wish I had noted them somewhere because I'm somewhat convinced that I'm a hilarious person (okay, I'm the only person who thinks I'm funny, but that's OK, I still get to share whatever the hell I want on my Twitter).

I also want to make sure that we're just as excited for this baby as we were for Ahsoka. It's hard. I'm less anxious in some regards because I've done this before so I somewhat know what to expect overall. But I'm still nervous; mostly about what juggling two kiddos is going to look like, especially early on when Babs is so new and vulnerable. But here's what we shared because we're cool nerds like that.

It's very similar to what we shared when we announced that I was pregnant with Ahsoka, but this time we have a little figure to represent Ahsoka.

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).