Today is Friday. Monday I am having this baby. Holy. Crap.
There’s definitely something to be said for not having a clue what is going to happen to you. Knowing, in this case, really ramps up the anxiety level. Giving birth and recovering from it is pretty much the most difficult thing I’ve ever done. And I’m going to do it again in a matter of days.
Pregnancy has a way of taking itself to a point with your body that you are ready to have it over with. And I’m there. Seriously there. Apparently after posting a few complaintish Facebook posts about feeling miserable, I’ve discovered that some people really don’t take well to any negative comments about being pregnant. I should be (like them and…) enjoying these last few days of being so connected with my son. I’ll be honest with you. I don’t like being pregnant. I love my children. I love babies. I will endure the discomfort to have the miracle of a baby join our family, but I don’t like it. Well, maybe the good hair is likeable, but seriously – there’s not much I enjoy about being pregnant.
There’s especially not much I enjoy about being this pregnant. (Here is comes…) Lying on my side is now impossible because whichever side of me is down goes to sleep (pins and needles, not snoring) in a matter of minutes. And, since this is the only approved way to sleep during pregnancy, sleep becomes tricky. For the past few weeks, I have been sleeping on our couch all kinds of propped up with pillows. Yes, baby kicks are cute. But when the baby gets this big the skin is stretched and there’s no way he can move without hitting something in there that hurts. I get that it’s special, but that much special is a lot to take right now. And there’s my general appearance. I’m fortunate to have taken great care of myself and have a nice watermelon-under-the-shirt bump. I can clearly see my previous body behind it all. I don’t gawk at other pregnant people, but I imagine that being this hugely pregnant does elicit some stares when I go out in public. I miss my body. I miss movement. I miss exercise. And let’s face it, sex doesn’t really happen at this point. I miss sex.
Another bit of randomness that has been floating through my brain is how to love and care for a second child like your first one. Carter really has a special hold on my heart. To me, he was perfect from the first moment I saw him. I’m crazy about him and I can’t think of a stage or a phase that he’s gone through that I didn’t find completely endearing in some way. And now, he’s the most brilliant little 3 year-old I’ve ever met. He reads, he writes, he’s artistic, he’s imaginative, his vocabulary is amazing, he’s so loving…I could go on and on. Yes, he does naughty things that 3 year-olds do, too. How do you begin to share your attention and affection with two children while still managing to give each one all they need? No doubt, there will be times when I have to choose. Right now, it’s tough to imagine, but I’m sure it’s one of those things that completely works itself out day by day.
So, here I go, into the baby world again. I’m exciting. I’m a little scared. But, I’m ready.