So, I’d planned on a pregnancy journal. One that would allow me to document all the itty bitty disgusting details of growing a child.
Didn’t quite work out that way.
So, in lieu of hundreds of posts, there will be one (or two, or three) long-ish disjointed one.
My pregnancy in a nutshell.
First off, whomever said pregnancy was ‘a beautiful thing’ should have their head examined.
Pregnancy is interesting, to be sure, but beautiful? Not so much.
I spent the first 16 weeks vomiting up everything (save club soda and grapefruit) at all hours of the day and night.
I ended up losing about 30 lbs which isn’t exactly how pregnancy is supposed to go.
It does mean, however, that I have no ‘baby weight’ to worry about after the fact. As if I’m the type to consider it, regardless.
My second trimester rocked. I actually enjoyed being pregnant for the most part. I don’t know if ‘glowing’ is the right term, but I wasn’t at all sore, and didn’t get many of the nastier pregnancy symptoms.
My summer was spent thanking God for the non-scorching weather and scouring yard sales and the like for gently used baby things. I want my kid to look good, but I’m definitely not paying tonnes of money for outfits he might wear once or twice.
Did I mention we’re having a boy?
Baby Boy Roberge. And since we can’t come up with a name that we both agree on (you know that trouble I had naming Lola? So much worse), Baby will probably be all she wrote for awhile.
I started feeling him move around the 19 week mark and he hasn’t stopped since. I find myself sitting for far too long stretches of time staring intently at my belly, watching it gently (and not so gently) roll about. My son is a mover.
My last trimester has been pretty good too. Nothing like the horror stories I’ve heard from friends. I still sleep pretty well (though I have no idea how that can possibly be, getting up 12 times during the night to pee), I don’t hurt too much (I loves me my chiropractor) and I’m still pretty mobile.
My ankles do swell a bit if I’m on my feet too long (I can press finger prints into my ankle), I’ve got this one vein that threatens to pop out every morning and my nipples have started leaking shockingly yellow beads of fluid, (was that too much information?) but I think I’m faring pretty well.
I never got that dark belly line, but can I just say, I now have the hairiest stomach on the planet? What the heck is up with that? Oh, and I’ve got all these tiny, finger print-like stretch marks. 9 of them, no more than 1/2 an inch long. Strange.
I hit the 37 week mark tomorrow, so while I technically have three more weeks to go, I have a feeling I’m going to go early. Premonition or wishful thinking?
Anyhow, while this entry may have been mildly informative, it’s horribly written and I apologize to the those who might still be reading.
I’ll endeavour to improve in the future.