Starting this pregnancy 20+ lb lighter than I started Eleanor's has made a big difference. I was able to buy maternity jeans (which fall right off my slopey belly & irritate the snot out of me). I'm able to still button my pre-pregnancy pants, because I never bought a size to accommodate my new weight before. And again, this baby rides high, all above my belly button, so really, the only thing my pants are containing is the post-c-section-fat-flap we all know and love. Except the opposite of that. Anyway, pants. It's an ongoing rant. For the past few weeks though I've been catching glimpses of myself in the mirror and thinking "whoa, I look pregnant. From the front!" which is new and exciting for me.
Just in the past week though, the great roundening of 2013 has happened. All of a sudden (to me) I'm ROUND. I have a ROUND belly. I look like a pregnant lady. I'm round and round and round. I'm very excited about this. I'm still round above my belly button with 2 bellies, but whatever. ROUND! Can you tell I'm excited?
Also, wearing a giraffe print scarf, because I can. And a hat, because I didn't shower that morning.
So, I'm on track to go all the way to my due date, which is fine. I'm prepared. I'm not even uncomfortable. Getting up & down off the floor is a bit arduous, but I'm so much more comfortable this time around than last time, and even last time I remember thinking that physical discomfort wasn't the reason I wanted to be done being pregnant. I wanted to be done because I wanted to meet my baby. That's where I am now. I want to meet this little man. And stuff him in a cornucopia, because apparently holiday babies in baskets is a thing I do.
Last time at this stage of the game I was (and had been for quite some time) having nightly 1-Tums heartburn. Nothing major, but it was a thing that was there. I had an incredibly uncomfortable & incurable rash of doom that I'd had for the entirity of the third trimester that peeled off like snake-skin days after Eleanor was born. I was getting carpel tunnel in both hands. And yet I remember thinking that the pregnancy part wasn't so bad. It WASN'T! I'm oddly good at being pregnant, which sounds like bragging but how can you brag about something you have no control over? Eleanor is made of chicken nuggets and french fries and I still only gained 11 lb. That's not superior pregnant-ladying, that's just good luck. I've puked once each pregnancy, and both times it wasn't because of morning sickness, but other external factors (a reaction to antibiotics & a virus). That's not superior pregnant-ladying, that's just good luck. I'm lucky. And so very grateful. My pregnancy with Eleanor was easy, and this time it's even easier. That's just good luck. I'm not better or special. I have no secret 12-step plan to happy, healthy pregnancies. If I did, I'd write that book and be rich forever. Somehow I don't think endorsing McDonald's drive-thru and naps is really a best-seller.
Now, if only I were as good at getting babies out as I am at carrying them around, eh?