I am starting my 5th month of pregnancy and Baby Center has informed me that I am supposed to not be nauseous, have boundless energy, and shine with the glow of Mother Earth herself. I wish someone would inform this baby of that because he/she still thinks we are in Trimester 1.....
I am still getting sick about once a day. While some of my energy has returned, it lasts only long enough to get me to 4pm, the first hour of the 3-hour soul-sucking Awkward extravaganza known as the "witching hour(s)." (Post coming on that one.) I am not big enough to fit into pregnancy clothes, but I am too fat for my own clothes, which means I am wearing Awkward Dad's shirts and not buttoning my pants. My "bump" is looking more like a slight beer belly, and I think this kid is stashing pieces of herself/himself in my thighs, face, and upper arms. I have yet to feel those glorious little flutters and kicks; I have a feeling that I have another night owl on my hands and I am just too tired at night to stay awake to feel them. Or I am too fat, which is more likely the case. The only shine going on here is more sweaty than glowy. Overall, this pregnancy is moving at a snail's pace and we are about halfway through. Honestly, I could handle all of it with my approximation of grace, if it wasn't for having to deal with anyone else.
Folks who know I am pregnant like to greet me with "Wow, Erin. You don't look pregnant at all!" I get that this is supposed to be complimentary but for someone whose pants are held together with a hair-tie, it falls a little short of the mark. Try telling me I am glowing instead.
Folks who don't know that I am pregnant greet the news like I am pranking them. "Really? You are pregnant? You don't look pregnant." I understand that People magazine and US Weekly have informed us that pregnant woman are supposed to look like Jessica Alba in a slinky dress with a perfectly formed "bump," but I wasn't air-brushed this morning so please excuse my non-pregnant-looking pregnancy which appears to offend your eyes. And what man invented the word "bump" to describe a growing baby? Who wants to be told that they have a "bump" anywhere on their body because I sure don't. Conjures up teenage acne issues for me.
If my children are around for my pregnancy revelation to folks, I usually get the pointed stare across my present progeny and the added "Oh, you are so brave. Two was plenty for me." The subtext here is shoutingly loud; "Greedy woman! Don't you have enough children?!" "Are you insane?!" "Wow. You must be Catholic. Or Amish in disguise. Or maybe on a reality show. Where are the cameras?"
Awkward Dad is pleased but totally freaked out and won't stop talking about college funds.
Super Kindergartener is totally chill, but I think he is under the impression that I am always pregnant anyway. A sibling every other year of your life will do that to a person.
Super Preschooler has his own "Girlfriend Baby" to worry about and can't be bothered with me and my problems.
Super Toddler has connected in her mind that I am growing a sibling for her, but she isn't altogether sure about where this new playmate is housed. Therefore, she thinks that any "bump" on my body contains a baby. My boobs, like any pregnant woman's boobs are extremely tender right now and not really up to her near daily "knocks" to "say hi to bebe." I have taken to crossing my arms around her just in case.
My point is.....well, I am not really sure. Honestly, I just wanted to complain for a post. I guess my point, if I had a point, would be that if I could gestate this child alone in a miraculously self-cleaning house with daily meal deliveries while watching endless Netflix and lounging on my couch for the next 5 months, I would probably feel like I have hit Trimester 2. And the lottery.
And I would sure as shooting be glowing like embodiment of Mother Earth herself and not resemble a total crab who just wants this to be over already:
This is the face I have taken to making to anyone who declares that I am
I don't love being pregnant. That is no secret. My pregnancies aren't terribly hard or else I doubt I would have had 3 and 1/2 of them so far. However, they are certainly full of little challenges and they are certainly way too long and way too boring. But within all that tedium, every once in awhile I remember why we are doing this; I look into the future to some seemingly far away day in late February when I will meet the newest little Super Baby. I will count all his/her little toes and fingers. I will name him/her some yet-undecided amazing alias and coo it as Super Baby falls asleep in my arms for the first time. I will look up into Awkward Dad's relaxed and happy face, as he tenderly watches our new baby, for the moment, totally unconcerned with college funds. And I will smile. The same private, secret, contented smile that millions of parents the world over have smiled when they ponder their coming child. It isn't much, but it has been enough to get me through 1 and 1/2 Trimesters. And it will get me through 1 and 1/2 more.
And Super Preschooler's smile here is definitely more than enough.
It is stunning.