So. You guys. I am nineteen weeks pregnant today. And I know that you’ve all noticed that I haven’t posted since week sixteen. NOT. Hey, I never said I would be consistent. In fact, I even said I wouldn’t be in my About Me section. So. There. But. I am still alive. And still pregnant. Rose and I have been visiting my family in California for almost two weeks. It has made me miss California. Miss the beautiful weather, and the way life is lived outdoors. And Rose loves it too. Because we are always outside. Always. But. It reminds me of being pregnant with her. And I keep remembering where I was at nineteen weeks with her. And how freaking sick I was. And how I could not stop thinking about the fact I was pregnant for a second. I was so preoccupied with the pregnancy that it is amazing that I was able to accomplish anything other than being pregnant. By nineteen weeks with Rose, I had already been into Labor and Delivery Triage with cramping. I had lost a lot of weight. Pregnancy was a job in itself with my first pregnancy- which was difficult because I had a job and school that needed to be tended to as well. Every week seemed to drag on and on and on. This time around? Haven’t even called my doctor with issues. I often forget I’m pregnant. I do still feel sick, and exhausted is my constant state of being. I’m still not sold on the second semester being the best- not much has changed yet. But. I’m not huge (yet). I can keep food down even without the constant help of Zofran (usually). And I think that I’ve started to keep the craziness in check (sorta… those around me probably disagree). I could write more, but I want go enjoy my last days in California- I have no idea when I’ll be back, how huge I might be, or how many kids I will have with me (although, no more than two, I assure you).
So. Yep. That’s the real reason I haven’t really been blogging. Not because I don’t have all that much to say. Although, for most of the last four months most of what I’ve had to say is that I’m freaking exhausted. And I couldn’t have been this exhausted when I was pregnant with Rose, right? Because I was working thirty hours a week. And going to school. And student teaching. And I would have remembered feeling this tired, right? And then I remember. Maybe I wasn’t so, so, so tired. Maybe I could keep my eyes open. Maybe I did work, go to school, and student teach. Maybe I only got five to six hours of sleep on a good night. Yeah. Maybe all of that. And maybe I wore myself out. And maybe it was not right for my body and my baby. And, yeah, maybe it was the only life I could live at the time. But maybe that life exhausted my body so much that my baby decided to try to vacate the premises. Maybe I didn’t feel worn out. But my body did. So at thirty-two weeks I was instructed to go home, get in bed, and stay there for five to six weeks. And you know what? I went home and I slept. I was exhausted. So, yeah, this time, maybe I feel crazy for being so tired when all (said sarcastically) I have to do is chase my one year old around. And I feel insane that when she goes down for her nap at ten in the morning, I crash out on the couch or jump in bed. But you know what? Maybe this time I won’t land myself in bed for months. We’ll see.
My main point is that for a little while, Rose would go down for her morning nap and I would blog. And I would clean. And cook. But for the last couple months, when Rose naps, the only thing I want to do is nap. So I haven’t been blogging. My house has been a disaster. I can’t remember the last meal I made. And now. Well, now is that “magical” time in pregnancy when I don’t completely feel like I’m going to die at any second. At least that’s what ‘they’ say. ‘They’ just forget to mention that while the second trimester might be the easiest trimester, you are also STILL FREAKING PREGNANT. And that sucks. At least for me. I know there are a cracked few of you that love being pregnant, and that’s cool. I wish I could be like that. But… nope. So, lately, I haven’t been blogging. I’ve been
bitchy cranky. I’ve been sick. I’ve been tired. And my body really isn’t mine. But. Baby number two is coming in September 2013, and I’m thrilled. Because as much as I have being pregnant, I love being a Mom, and THAT lasts much longer than the discomfort of pregnancy. More details to come (if I’m awake, that is…).
Hey! I bet you were all super worried that I disappeared for good. No? Hmmmm. Well, apparently I didn’t. I’m still here. Still alive. I’ve just been… uninspired. I don’t know what to write. And then I do know what to write, but I don’t know when to write it. And then I do know when to write it and I just don’t remember how. Does that sound weird? It is. Like I said in my About section; I’ll write when I want, if I want, when I have something to say. I never said I had important things to say. Anyway…
Rose turns one on Saturday. ONE! For those of you that aren’t parents, let me explain what this means; it means she is totally grown up. She is a big girl. She is no longer my baby. She talks (well, says a few words), she walks (a few feet), and she knows what she wants, when she wants it, and how to get it. The last few days I’ve been reflecting on the past year. I’ve shed a few tears over the passage of time, as I remember the early days when she couldn’t say ‘that,’ when I had no idea what she wanted, but had to figure it out. I think about the days when I had a huge belly. The mornings I woke, had contractions for an hour, and wondered if that would be the day. And then I remember the nights I fell asleep, realizing that day wasn’t her day. And then neither was the next day. Or the day after that. And then, suddenly, if was her day. And it was my day. It was our day. My belly, though far from flat, was no longer her home. My arms were where she belonged. I no longer wondered what her eyes would look like. I didn’t have to question whether she would look like me (she didn’t- to this day she’s her Daddy’s finest work). That day. The day she became mine, she made me something I thought I understood, but really, I had no idea; she made me a Mom. She changed my life. I look at her in awe these days; she’s becoming an individual. I no longer see a baby when I see her. I see my independent, beautiful, silly, willful daughter. I see those same big brown eyes that stared up at me the evening of March 2, 2012. The eyes I looked into that night, the eyes of the baby that I told; “I don’t know what I’m doing, but we’ll figure it out together.” Truer words have never been exchanged between us. Everyday we wake up, everyday is different, and everyday I have no idea what I’m doing, but we figure it out together.
And now… now it is time for us to go. To do laundry. To clean the bathrooms. To read books. To dance. To play with her baby doll. To find things in the carpet. To kiss. To screech. To laugh. To cry. Whatever we do these days, we do together. And we figure it all out.