That's not quite right.
Somewhere along the way I became very conscious of what people thought of my writing, their reactions and this thought in my brain somewhat stifled my ability to write. Anything beyond the daily one-liner seemed indulgent in an interwebz full of words (and I read a fair amount/embarrassing amount willingly myself).
That being said, as we embark on this new journey of a family of four-to-be, I found myself searching back through the blog pages, newly entertained by stories from my first pregnancy with Lilly. I am really happy I documented what I did because I really did forget over time. It's been four years since I did this pregnancy thing, under very different circumstances, and my memory fails me on many beautiful, insignificant details that I wrote down mindlessly here. So in realizing that, I decided I would write again, this time, to restore my memory in the future. Which will undoubtedly fail me again.
So where this pregnancy begins (ok not really THAT FAR) is with a whole lot of discussion on whether we wanted to really do a man-on-man defense parenting approach in our future or not. This endless ring of conversations usually ended with one or both of us throwing our hands in the air, at God knows what saying "if it happens, it happens!" Lovely strategy I know, but sometimes I thinks it's best just to let things go how they will.
On Andrew's birthday, he and I went to lunch together to celebrate on our own a bit. We had plans to meet friends out for a bite and drink at dinner that night as well. On our way back to the office, I asked Andrew if I should take a test before we go out tonight - to which Andrew said yes. Granted, I am not even "late" yet, I just more wanted to know if it was ok for me to drink or not. Andrew immediately pulled into CVS and said I should take the test right now (patience is neither of our virtues) so home we went, I peed on the stick, and there you have it, it read pregnant. Obviously at this point calling it "pregnant" is an overstatement, I was not quite 4 weeks at the time. So now "hush hush" because a myriad of things can happen at that point. But our reaction this time was little less scared crying, more "well, here we go!" Happy.
I should back up a bit and say Lilly has been asking for both a baby brother and sister for months. Not one, both. She has several times insisted that I "had a baby in my belly" when I did not in fact (but thanks for that!). She sees a lot of pregnant women at school, and she seemed to want that for herself. Peer pressure? Maybe. I am more inclined to think she wants something of her "own" to care for, Little Miss Bossy (and loving of course). We decided not to tell her, knowing that the concept of a secret is lost on her. We'd wait until the holidays when/if things were farther along.
Evening of Thanksgiving, after dinner there was some family hanging out, enjoying the nice weather playing washers. Lilly was doing her usual "racing" outside, burning some excess sugar of the meal while the adults sat around and talked. On one of her laps, she yelled "Mama has a baby in her belly!" And kept running. I was shocked. I didn't know how to react fast enough and in slow motion, everyone's head turned towards me. I'm white-faced, mostly because this time it's true, not her just wishing (and making me feel AWESOME about my physique) and Andrew's Mom asks "do you have something to tell us?" Ummmmmmm... Well so much for the Christmas morning surprise idea.
After being pregnant with Lilly, I was pretty sure I was a pregnancy rock star, capable of carrying child with minimal discomfort. About two seconds after the parents knew, I started to feel nauseous. At first I thought it was in my head. But no. Starting from about then until almost new year's, nausea was always looming, worse in the afternoon and evening. I was completely unfamiliar with this feeling and MAN, not fun. I had the kind of nausea I could only keep at bay by continuously eating starchy food. Which is awesome for the weight game, especially during the holidays. I developed a nice little pasta-pooch by the time I was 9 weeks. I didn't even show until close to 20 weeks last time!
Right before Christmas we had an appointment to confirm the pregnancy ("viability appointment") and find out our OB has a sense of humor. I have a new doctor this time and am delivering in a different hospital because my previous doctor no longer delivers babies. Therefore we are getting to know this doc from scratch. Andrew came to the appointment to see the little alien baby via ultrasound, and when the doc pulled it up on the screen, she asked "so how many we're you expecting?" Andrew nearly passed out until she said "just kidding! It's only one." Between 12 and 13 weeks, we went in for genetic screening and found out luckily that everything looked good so far. HOWEVER. They would NOT tell us the gender of the baby, which is slightly maddening, because it is not "medically necessary." Ummmm it is MENTALLY necessary for THIS Mama! But no, we're having to wait it out until after 20 weeks which is practically eons in pregnancy time.
Luckily, around the time my first trimester was ending, I started feeling less nauseous... right in time for a family flu epidemic! Lilly brought an un-vaccinated strain of the flu home for Andrew to catch, and subsequently me. I seemed to have the hardest time shaking it off, probably from my lack of pharmaceutical options and managed to catch a secondary case of bronchitis and raging sinus infection to follow. The only silver lining to this torture was my appetite disappeared so I managed to lose a few pounds of my pasta baby. It felt like it had been months since I felt good and whiney/cranky does not quite describe my attitude during the time. The first week of February, things started to get better, right in line with the weather and an actual baby pooch started to emerge. It's still earlier than last time but I've heard that is normal.
I'm amazed with how different this pregnancy has been to date than the last one. The sickness, the complete aversion to so many foods (do not even bring red meat, indian food, or anything that strays too far from cereal around me) and the supreme level of exhaustion just go to show that every kid is different.
Lilly is so excited to be a big sister, kissing and hugging my belly daily, and talking about what she is going to teach her and feed her (Lilly will only entertain the idea of a little sister now, and I tend to think she may be right). When I look at the ultrasound photos from each kid at our genetic testing, I am struck by how different the profiles are. I think we are in for a completely different experience this time, and I feel very lucky to be able to experience this in a way that I can relish in it, even with all the ick that came at the beginning. I can't wait to meet his kid, boy or girl. We truly do not care which it is, we're just hoping for a sleeper this time. Can you see that in an ultrasound??
Photos:
The Test, Confirmation of Little Bean ultrasound at 9weeks-ish, 10 week Pasta Pooch (before the flu), Genetic Screening Alien Baby Face ultrasound at almost 13 weeks
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