About being pregnant

I know I haven't written much about being pregnant. I don't want to be a complainer. Even though the beginning of this pregnancy was a little harder than my first (a bit of nausea, some tiredness, a little unexpected depression for a few weeks) I felt like I didn't have time to think about it because I was preoccupied with taking care of Talia. I also know people who struggle with infertility so it seemed silly to complain. Of course, that made me feel more guilty and confused about those few weeks of depression-- I really wanted to be pregnant.

As time wore on I felt better and my pregnancy followed a more traditional trajectory-- felt slightly yucky in the first trimester and then much better in the second. Ron and I took a trip to Paris, we had the whole job search thing going on, and the holidays came and went.

And then the third trimester came. I can honestly say I have been feeling uncomfortable for at least 6 weeks now. I have had a low grade cold on and off (mostly on) since early February. Most of all, though, is how fucking uncomfortable I am. I am carrying so differently this time around. Classic boy belly as opposed to classic girl physique when I was carrying Talia. I haven't gained very much weight at all-- less than 20 pounds at my last visit (I weighed more 6 weeks ago but had a stomach flu, lost a bunch and have been catching up). I can assure you every pound of that 20 is in my belly. I can't breathe, I can't get comfortable, I can't sleep at night (turning over is a huge event for me and involves huffing and puffing), my appetite is erratic, and I certainly can't climb the stairs. I have terrible heartburn even though I'm on Prevacid. I actually think things like, oh it would be nice to take Talia to the zoo but I can't see myself walking that much. We had a layover in Chicago last week and had to walk at least 100 miles between terminals. Ron carried Talia, I carried my backpack and hers and I seriously thought I would die. Most of all I find this embarrassing.

I try not to talk about it but find myself doing it anyway and it feels so stupid coming out of my mouth. I know people who are on bedrest. I know people who can't get pregnant. I know people who are carrying twins. I know people who have miscarriages. It seems futile and petty to complain. I've mostly started complaining to Ron, who reacts by saying that we definitely won't be having any more kids because I find it so taxing, which I think is really fucking insensitive. I think I complain to him the most because he's the one I need to help me out a little bit extra. If he had ANY idea how much trouble it is for me to bend over to pick up his crap and Talia's toys he would just pick it up himself! I keep trying to make this clear to him but he can't seem to remember. It doesn't hurt him physically to bend over or run up the stairs to get something, or move in certain positions like pulling the garbage bag out of the can, but it is really hard for me! I can't even breathe! He has completely taken over bathtime, which is great because I can't see myself getting up to the third floor, bending over to wash Talia, or possibly carrying her down the stairs (they're really slippery if you're wet). I see every task this way-- how hard will this be for my pregnant self to do? The overwhelming feeling is that I'm out of shape and I have to remind myself that I'm NOT out of shape (not more than I was before I got pregnant anyway) but I'm PREGNANT. VERY PREGNANT!

I am SO ready for this baby to come out. I know how much easier it is to take care of a baby when it's inside and I know that I won't be able to finish any of my current projects, like quilting or packing the house but I would be perfectly happy for this baby to come ANYTIME after this week. I'm ready to find out what our new life will be like. Every plan we try to make, regarding moving or deciding how many days Talia should spend in preschool this summer, or whether or not I will be able to handle flying with the two kids alone so Ron can drive a car out to Madison, EVERYTHING is contigent on how everything goes with a new baby. It's going to be hard and it's going to happen anyway, I may as well find out now. Please...!