This pregnancy has gone completely differently than the last. For starters, Iris' pregnancy dragged by because I had nothing else to think about or focus on in any way. It was pretty much 10 straight months (yes - pregnancy is 10 months long - look it up) of staring at my body, waiting for it to do something labor-ey. I was in pretty serious physical pain from the moment her little fetus self started to become big enough for folks to notice I was pregnant. Whatever cocktail of hormones her pregnancy created made me feel angsty and ragged around all the edges, all the time. I literally cried because I was hungry. Multiple times. My hips felt like they had bolts screwed into them way too tightly, and my back pretty much felt like someone took a hammer to it.
I had no idea what to expect, so I just figured that's what pregnancy feels like, and trudged on (Kelly's insistence that I see a chiropractor notwithstanding. I was stubborn. And feared the co-pay, I think). Anyway, Iris' pregnancy = anxiety, massive amounts of pain, and really wanting to stab anyone who paid attention to me. So, pretty much like the onset of puberty. Except when you're 14, everyone expects you to be a cranky insolent ass, but when you're pregnant, everyone expects you to be a joyful, glowing orb of Maternal Light. How anyone expects that when the experience is the equivalent of puberty with an extra layer of "run over by a truck," I'll never understand, but whatevs. That's what happened.
This time around, I actually had morning sickness. I must have been spared it last time because I was already being such a punk about how much things sucked and the universe decided to spare Kyle from the injustice of having an EVEN CRANKIER wife to deal with. So, I got the morning sickness this time, but it was totally bearable. It was essentially like the worst hangover, but without any of the fun before hand. Oh, and also I never puked, I just hung out on the bathroom floor "just-in-case" for a good three months. Good times. We had a really clean toilet during that time, that's for sure.
Once the fog of the sickness lifted, I started to notice odd things. Like, for starters, I didn't want to kill everyone at work yet. People would inquire about the pregnancy, and I didn't automatically shoot lasers from my eyes at their insolent question-asking. In fact, I don't remember even thinking that speaking to me made you an assh*le by default. This was not true last time.
Also I didn't feel the need to eat everything that was ever made of cheeseburger this time. Last time I would get all gaggy/barfy if I went more than a couple of hours without massive protein intake. Seriously. And I took in that protein in the form of bacon cheeseburgers. A whooooole lot of them. So this time around, I'm still a good 20-30 lbs lighter than I was last time. I also don't have stabby hip pain and my back doesn't feel broken. Coincidence? I don't know, but I'm not going to question it.
This time around, I've also been busy as hell. They actually give me something akin to responsibility at work these days, so that's taken up a lot of focus. We have been trying to sell our house and buy another one for nearly this entire pregnancy, which is unbelievably distracting. Once that whole situation is settled, I'll be sure to regale you all with the neverending story of how we settled the housing issue. For now, it's still ugly and I've turned completely superstitious, and I refuse to jinx anything by trying to talk about it online.
Then there's the whole issue of having a toddler around. Incredibly distracting creatures, these small people. They have far too fine motor skills to have such undeveloped brains. I read something, somewhere, one time (real specific-like, ya know?), which I am paraphrasing, which said, "bless the first-time mother, for she knows not how easy she has it, sitting there on the couch, NOT chasing any other children." Or something. The sentiment was the same. How could my first pregnancy have been SO much worse, when I had SO much less to do or worry about? I had nearly zero responsibilities and yet I wanted to cry myself to sleep every day. I don't know. It's not like this time around has been without pain, but it either wasn't as bad, or I didn't have enough time to focus on it. Hell, it's been so much better, I think we should go ahead and have two or three more of these suckers (right, Kyle? Ha, hahaha, Kyle?)!
In the next three weeks or so, we should be moving into our new house, having a baby sprinkle (like a small shower, get it?) at said new house, and then of course there's the small issue of having the actual baby. No big. We have time. I am so completely not being sarcastic when I say I'm not worried about it. I have some sort of weird internal gauge of "alrightness," which is usually pretty accurate, which is not anywhere near the red zone. I truly believe that everything will happen in the order that I want it to happen, in the time that I want it to happen, and I therefore have no need to devote any level of stress to it. Everything is okay because I said so! But really. Everything is okay because I said so.
P.S. I'm apparently not dilated at all, but I've been having all sorts of contractions! I don't think it means anything. Will try to post some pictures soon. OH, and we get an ultrasound in about a week and a half. Yay!