It began with a run in September on a dirt road in Indian Mountain with the leaves falling and some light rain. I couldn't keep my stamina up and something felt strange in my abdomen. Ah yes, it all came together as I slowed to walk...pregnant... stopped in my tracks (and I pretty much haven't been on a run since).
What else could happen in a week where we went under contract on a new home and them promptly scrambled to make sense of some crazy loan drama. My faith in myself had been tested; my faith in setting life in to motion and then rising to the occasion had been restored. I realized I should trust in what came our way and trust in myself that I could handle it.
Two kids, really? Two? I can barely handle call waiting... My cool quotient (already dangerously low) is sure to take another hit. But I'm in this and I will figure it out. If I get all yogic about it, I tell myself life will again morph in to something much more interesting.
It is about time I got around to writing about this little being in my belly and posting some shots. It took me long enough to come to terms with the thought and then I put the pregnancy on auto-pilot so we could get through the move. Just about a month and a half ago I realized/digested I was pregnant...in a strange way. I was at a friend's house when I caught sight of myself in her mirror. I was a little in shock and she did confirm that yes, I was pregnant. It made me realize we didn't have a full length mirror in our new house. I've been looking at myself from the boobs up. Admittedly they were getting bigger but I've always lied to myself about them and pretty much just thought it seemed appropriate... but I digress. After said friend visit, I promptly went home and brought a mirror upstairs from our basement. From that point on, it's been pretty hard to ignore this buddha belly and it's been a whirlwind pregnancy.
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| This is one of my new favorite uniforms: a retired Julie Howard skirt. I call myself Moo Moo Maillet these days |
There have been those great first movement moments: the butterfly flutters all the way to the visible stomach fluctuations. The day we found out she was a girl, when I was so intuitively sure she was a boy. Telling friends and family this time around has been more fun because I am not taking the announcement as seriously as I did the first pregnancy. Everything is on a more laid back level.
We don't have a name or a nickname, like "the bird". That's what everyone asks. Truth be told, we haven't really been talking about it. D, who has been staring at me for months now, finally doesn't seem so neurotic in his pursuit of getting a good portion of the inside of the house completed. Though he lost points the other night when I asked him if I really was this big and he just laughing said, "yea" in a moment of unconscious honesty. You know I won't let that comment go; I have filed it next to the conversation, "Miss M said she's Nemo and I'm Dori" to which I replied, "does that make me Marlin?" and he said, "No, you're Bruce." Bruce (the larger than life "alcoholic" shark)? Okay I might be a little Bruce, especially pregnant.
I'm 9 months this week. I have no nursery set up. Something clicked just yesterday on the heels of falling asleep hot and waking up in nesting mode. We are tracking towards the finish line people. A new little lady is headed our way.
I think about how much joy miss M has brought us and I can't imagine what this new little soul will add to our dynamic. I couldn't fall asleep a few nights ago because I realized miss M might be devastated by this change. Inevitable change that I cannot undo; and I don't want anything to change between M and I. I don't want the slightest dip in the joy she exudes. I temper these feelings with the lovely thought of a little sibling for her to play with and teach. She is at that stage where any baby is "so cute" and steals her attention from the task at hand. I like to imagine she'll fall for our new member as wholeheartedly (but I might purchase a frog or fish as a back-up plan). I read a sentiment from Tina Fey the other day that said, "the first child looks at you lovingly; the second child wants you to move out of the way so they can look at their older sibling." It made me lament the love affair I've had with the old girl (knowing I might not have the same time/space continuum with the new one) but then again I also know full well how it feels to look up lovingly to a big sister and, like the moon, it really it is something special.
Our family has been through quite a transition these past six months, which helps make me feel less guilty about not spending this incubation period writing blog entries and posting belly shots of round two. I guess it's not uncommon to find other things to do with your time rather than stare at your belly once you've been through it before. This time I feel older and slower and more tired. There are those brief "rockin' the pregnancy" moments but for the most part, when I'm not hefting myself out of a bed or a chair or away from work on the computer, I'm hanging my legs up to relax. No worries (with three weeks left on the clock), I know once I meet this little lady it will all be worth it.