There are things you do differently with experience. Even if you do them exactly the same, the second time you do it with conviction. You are more certain that this path is the right path. Or perhaps you are more certain that you stumbled down the right path the first time quite by accident and that you will surely stumble down the path that is right again.
“No two pregnancies are the same!” say the cheerful women in the grocery store. And the midwife. And the woman at Em’s school. And my mother! (So, of course it is true!) This has certainly been the case. Everything about this first few months has been different. I think in large part because this time I know.
I know that this little being I am cooking will change my life in unimaginable ways. That I will love them in a way that I did not know was possible. That I will continue to feel their every movement, anticipate their every feeling long after I share my body with them.
Knowing this brings with it a fear I never had with Emily. I was never particularly afraid of miscarriage or a birth defect with Emily. Because I only loved the “idea” of a baby then. I could get pregnant again. And at 29 the red flags of “advanced maternal age” were not lurking behind every corner. But this time I know that I don’t want to get pregnant again. I want THIS baby. And I certainly do not want to shoulder the guilt of feeling that it was MY age that brought pain in to their less than PERFECT life. So there is Fear.
And with that Fear comes a deeper reverence.
I know I can do it. That is different this time, too. There is fear, certainly. But there is more Confidence than fear. My body grew a little human that grew up to be a sassy little thing that I adore. And my body will very likely not let me down. I can do it. I know this.
And I know it will not last forever. When I came home from work those first few weeks and could not imagine cooking dinner I knew that I’d not spend the next nine months on my couch. And I knew that my baby would be just fine if I did not eat anything but Cheerios and peanut butter jelly sandwiches for a week straight.
I know that I am not actually losing my mind. My first pregnancy I wondered if I’d ever be able to watch an SPCA commercial without hysterics. Or if I would ever be able to get out the door in less than five trips. I know now that my hormones will level out and eventually I will go back to just having quiet tears roll down my face all the god damn time instead of full on bawling. I will get out the door to get to work in only three trips, just like normal.
I know that I probably won’t pee in my pants. And that I won’t have to pee every 30 minutes forever. This is of particular importance to me today. The toilet in my office is broken, so I have to run next door to pee. And this is different now than it was when I was pregnant with Em. I’d never have been able to pee in a bathroom that was closer to a conference table filled with four people than it was to the sink. And I’d definitely not have been able to have done it three times during one 90 minute meeting, but this girl has got to go! And my first pregnancy did change that. I can pee anywhere now. Any time. On command, it is quite a skill.
Lastly… I know my shoes won’t fit in a few more months. And I love my shoes. So while I may comfortably settle in to wearing the same damn pair of jeans every day and a black shirt of my choosing I will be wearing fanfuckingtastic shoes until I am either too afraid I will topple over or I can’t jam my big fat pregnant feet in to them.
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Whoa. You just described my feelings during PG #2. I totally get where you are right now. Great post. Oh and ROCK those heels mama.
OK, re-reading and it seems like you don’t pee yourself at all while pregnant. I am so very jealous of you. You are rocking pregnancy.
I hear you, lady. Especially about the birth defect thing. But Z said something to me that made it all seem more manageable. He said something like, “So what if the baby has a problem? He’d still be our baby. We’ll still love him as much. We’ll just deal.” It really gave me pause. Of course we’d love him the same. Of course we’d deal. Don’t get me wrong, I still worry. But the reality doesn’t seem as scary.
And let me tell you something about miscarrying. It doesn’t matter how old you are or how young you are everyone blames themselves and wonders if it’s their fault. Even while knowing it isn’t. After mine I didn’t talk to a single woman who has had one who didn’t wonder how they could have prevented it even though they knew deep down that it wasn’t their fault. And those ladies provided me with so much comfort and made me feel so less crazy. But thankfully, your chances of that are super slim now that you’ve heard the heartbeat! Woohoo!
Oh, and weirdly I’m not peeing myself nearly as much now as I was in the 2nd trimester! Makes no sense, but I’ll take it and I hope for the same for you!
All pregnacies are different. So are all children :D Beautiful belly :)
I’m bummed you’re already a 10.5. I soooo want your shoes.
Kelly this was a joy to read and made me snicker quite a few times. I still can’t get on a trampoline without worrying about peeing first lol Your second bundle of joy will be as blessed as your first!
i love this post! that is it EXACTLY!! and in case i haven’t told you enough…i am so uber happy for you guys. i am dying to know if you are having a boy or a girl and can’t wait to see pics. wow, how spectacularly different your life is now from a couple years ago. you are here, in a very happy place. much love KA. :)
I don’t know what the hell I am gonna do this next time. I graduated to the 10.5 after Em was born. An 11 is damn near impossible to find. Sigh…. http://drag-queen.com/ ;)
I miss my cute shoes :(