Wednesday, March 20, 2013

{14w1d Round 2}

 The tech that did our NT scan last week said that I had the sweetest, calmest, most cooperative child she had ever seen.
And I was shocked.   

Given the actual morning sickness this time, and the extreme exhaustion, I would have swore this was going to be my wild child.  Scarlett Grace gave me the most amazing pregnancy, the perfect birth, was sleeping through the night at five weeks, was a champ breast feeder, and really never gave us any problems.  She's polite-for the most part-smart, adorable, and pretty much perfect (to me).  So naturally I just assumed this second blessing would be my crazy one.

And it still may be.

But the technician and I spend the extra time we had-since she was able to take the measurements needed in record time due to the reserved, cooperative angel in my uterus-marveling at the sweetness and gentleness that was just radiating off of this child.  I'm so in awe of how God can take a single cell and turn it into this moving, breathing, precious little life. 

My sweet, calm baby.
Can you see the adorable face over to the right?  And the tiny torso in the middle, with the precious arms on either side and the little knees at the left?

Now that it's all becoming real, I wonder who this little one will be.  What they will look like, how their personality will develop, and who they will become.  I am so blessed to have the responsibility of growing and leading their heart, and I know I will only fall more in love when I start to feel them move and watch them-and me-grow from the outside.

What an amazing process God has created our bodies for!  To think that inside of me right now, there is life growing.  I will never get over how incredible it is to be a part of something so incredible, something only God can establish, despite our best efforts of medical procedures, potions, and science.  

The nausea has disappeared, and my energy is back.  I no longer have a desire for bagels and cream cheese, and even frappuccinos can't temp me.  Which is surprising, because I recently discovered a snickers frappuccino-a java chip frappuccino with a few pumps of toffee nut syrup-and it's good. 

Also, I still have no idea if this little one is a boy or girl, but the truth is I really couldn't care less. Giving Scarlett a sister would be ideal, especially since they'll have to share a room in our two bedroom duplex for a while.  And everyone knows there's nothing cuter in this world than baby girl frocks and hair accessories.  But giving my husband a son would be amazing too, and raising a little man would outweigh the cons of the difficulty of finding little boys clothes that aren't covered in strange sayings, puppy dogs, or frogs.

And this time around, I don't care if I gain more than the suggested thirty five pounds, end up with swollen ankles, or even stretch marks. 

Because I love being pregnant.

Seriously; best job ever.

Everything grows rounder and wider and weirder, and I sit here in the middle of it all and wonder who in the world you will turn out to be.
Carrie Fisher

Thursday, March 7, 2013

{12w2d, Round 2}

I'm at the end of my first trimester, already.

I've been having so many thoughts lately; everything from how I wish I could slow things down, to wishing time would just hurry up.  It's crazy how much I have swimming in my head on any given day.  Just a mass of disorganized, irrational, brilliant and random thoughts all jumbled up, all fighting for my attention. 

Mostly, I just ignore them, because it's the only way to stay sane.

But I don't want to forget how it feels.  I don't want to complain, but I also want to listen to my heart and my body and remember how it feels to be here, right now, in this very moment.

I'm tired. 

So very tired. 

With Scarlett's pregnancy, I had extra energy.  So much energy, I didn't know what to do with it.  I never got sick, and I didn't start showing until half way through my pregnancy.  She was riding very low and very compact, giving me an odd, thick, trunk like midsection instead of a big, round belly.  I remember wishing I were sick-even just a little-to reassure me that everything was fine and that I was indeed growing a tiny human.  And I wanted that belly, that full, round belly that I could show off.  But in the end it worked out, because when all 8lbs 9oz of her came out, I pretty much just returned to normal.  And then breastfeeding took care of the rest in no time, plus a little extra.  It was so nice.

But this child is another story.

From weeks six to week eleven, I was nauseated.  I never threw up, but it always felt as if I might.  And for some reason, only Manhattan Asiago Cheese Bagels topped with with Garlic Cream Cheese, paired with a giant Jamba Juice could make me feel better.  That, and anything super salty like french fries or Dill Pickle Lay's Chips, along with anything super sweet, like Welches berry, grape or cherry Popsicles, or a milkshake from any drive through.

So, I'd pretty much eat my allowed caloric intake by 10am.

And even though the sickness wrapped up last week, that last part hasn't.

Just like with Scarlett, I don't really want meat.  But with my first pregnancy, I counteracted that with eating at least one hard boiled egg a day to make sure I got enough protein, and I tried to eat almond butter with an apple or celery, too. 

This time, I just eat an extra bagel.  With extra cream cheese.

And I don't work out.

I'm working part time, and in school the rest of the time. Plus I have that mommy-wife guilt that I didn't have last time.  I know that I'll been done with my final class in May, so I should just push forward and finish it up, because it won't be any easier to do once the baby comes and I have one more (much wanted) responsibility.  But it's just so hard.  My brain just isn't what it used to be, and I'm not willing or able to give the time that I probably should to be the most successful in this class, because it's my first science class in a decade, and it's not an easy one.  In fact, out of close to one hundred and twenty students last semester, the teacher only gave out two A's.

Which doesn't make me super hopeful.

And the counselors told me that thought they'll count all of my previous classes that were taken forever ago toward any career path I choose to take, the classes I'm taking now will be scrutinized much more closely because they will be my most recent work, and therefore a better indicator of my dwindling brainpower.

So, kind of a lot of pressure to do well in this Microbiology class.  I don't want to take up this much time and make this much effort for nothing.

But I found out the day after I started Microbiology that I was pregnant.  And since then, I've been extra lazy, hungry, and tired.  I know my energy would improve if I would eat better and try to work out, but once I get home from school and or work, I just can't justify taking the extra time I don't have left over to go to the gym while my family needs dinner and attention.

But again, I don't want to complain.  The class is actually interesting, and I know God's opened up doors to allow me to do it at this time in my life, and after the 23rd of May, I'll be free and clear for a few years while I apply to the nursing program and just wait to see if that's the path God wants to take our little family down. 

But for now, I'm not going to lie, it's a hard, and a little more than I bargained for.

So I'm praying that God helps me to retain the information that I'm learning, so that I don't have to spend as much time stressing over the readings, labs, and countless tests.  And I'm praying that He gives me the desire and strength to fight the urge to go to bed at seven every night and sleep in until the last possible second each morning, encouraging me to maybe rise a little earlier to take care of the house, my family, and my body.

And most of all, I'm praying that I don't wish this time away.  I really would love to hurry up and be done with this class, but I also want to enjoy this time with my family before it grows by one precious, tiny human, and to soak up all I can of my daughter before she turns two in May. 

And then goes to school.

And then starts driving.


These moments go by so fast.  I'm already almost through with the first trimester of this amazing, miracle pregnancy that God has gifted me, and I'd really love to just relax and worry more about how to cram an extra crib into the second bedroom of our two bedroom duplex than about making my next batch of flashcards.  But the Proverbs woman managed to accomplish work, family, and extra curricular activities in an allotted period of time, so I know I can too.

Though I'm pretty sure it said she was the last to go to bed and the first to wake in her household, and I'm having a little trouble with that part.

But I am thankful.  I'm grateful.  I'm still in awe of what is happening to my body right now, as I watch my stomach grow to a size that I hadn't seen until the end of my second trimester with my first pregnancy.  I'm embracing the changes, and amazed by the Grace I've been shown.

I'm also much calmer this time around.

At our first ultra sound at seven weeks, the Doctor found what he called a blood clot behind the baby, which then became known as a fluid sac by the next ultra sound, as it had grown with the baby.  Normally I would be beside myself with worry, but God's given me a peace this time around.  The doctor said that it's probably just random, extra fluid, and we'll keep an eye on it.  I just need to watch for symptoms like bleeding and premature labor, and take it easy.

I'm also using the extra fluid sac-the one that's growing along with the baby-as the excuse as to why I'm so much bigger this time around.  It's like I'm growing twins, but without the extra hormones.  And-of course-the second baby.


Either way, I'm trusting that God has a reason for this extra fluid sac, and I'm not allowing myself to get caught up in worry unless the doctor gives me reason too. 

I'll use that extra energy making more flashcards, instead.

And maybe-just maybe-I'll start getting out of bed extra early in the morning, so I can go work out, do some house cleaning, laundry, and make breakfast and lunch and prepare dinner so I will be less tempted to drive through McDonald's (which would normally gross me out) or Manhattan Bagel and it's next door neighbor, Jamba Juice (because those purchases are doing a number on my wallet).  Then I'll slow down my stomach growth, start feeding this second tiny human a much healthier diet, and possibly gain back some energy, too.

Maybe I'll even get smarter in the process, and suddenly do the impossible and ace this Microbiology class.

Because if my broken, infertile body can get pregnant, then I'm sure it's possible to get an A.

Then when it's over, I can pat myself on the back while I switch gears and start thinking about what I think this tiny human inside of me is.  I'll begin choosing names, redesigning the nursery, and bask in the glow of my ginormous reflection in the mirror, enjoying the fact that I'm growing a tiny human, instead of worrying about the number on the scale or the size of my clothes. 

Because somewhere-in the midst of all that extra bagel and cream cheese belly-there is a second miracle developing. 

And this time, I will completely embrace it; nausea, fatigue, extra belly and all.

Life is always a rich and steady time when you are waiting for something to happen or to hatch.
- E.B. White