I am not basking in the glow of pregnancy and I don’t feel pretty.
Eight weeks into my 40 week journey, I suddenly remember how little I enjoyed this the last time. And, honestly, this time is much worse. Morning sickness, I don’t think so? How about all day sickness? On a good day, the nausea feels like I have washed down ten multi-vitamins with a pot of coffee, all while nursing a wine hang over. On a bad day, it is that same feeling, but add a couple of undercooked eggs and an extra pot of coffee into the mix. I am not having fun. I miss feeling good. I miss enjoying food.
The cravings are mostly non-existent. More prevalent are the aversions. Just about everything sounds awful. And, if I am craving something, I can almost guarantee that within a few minutes just the mere thought of that food will make me gag. I have lost ten pounds and, trust me, I am not complaining about this. I was still trying to lose 28 pounds that remained from my last pregnancy. It’s like my body, wise lump that it is, knew that I was just going to get pregnant again so why bother. That weight clung to me like Velcro and showed no signs of releasing its grip. At least I have the memory of running that marathon. Maybe someday I’ll do it again…maybe not. Either way, after this one, which will be the last, maybe I will reclaim my body. After all, doesn't every maternal creature strive to be what we all call "the yummy mommy?" Ok, there's more pressure for us mothers -- not only are we expected to juggle work, nurture our children, and try not to "neglect" our spouses, now we are supposed to look hot too! Great...
This pregnancy is so different than the last. In many ways, I am more terrified this time – I guess I know what is coming. At the same time, I am excited because I know what is coming. Since this will be the last child, and I know how fast it will all go by, I want to savor everything -- pregnancy (well, after the first trimester and before I get gigantic), birth (when it is over), and infancy (as long as this one isn't colicky and sleeps a lot). Little hands and feet grow so fast and before you know it they are using them to hit and kick while screaming, "Noooo, I don't like you. No fair!" Above all, I look forward to my loftiest goal as a mom in her (gulp) late-30's-- to achieve that "Yummy Mommy" status.