I'm still not completely sure how we got here, and I honestly can't fathom the fact that I'm halfway through this pregnancy.
Until about three or four days ago, all had been extremely quiet on the baby front, and our Little Surprise was giving me trouble by not moving around and letting Mommy know all's well.
It's Logan's fault, really. What with his moving and contracting from such an early point in my pregnancy, that kid has me expecting to feel summersaults from 15 weeks. I've spent the last probably six weeks troubling over the fact that I'm not feeling movement even though that's still completely in the safe zone. There was a good 10 day period where I convinced myself I'd absolutely lost the baby. Several nights in a row, I cried myself to sleep imagining the worst, though I was assured by nurses we were probably fine. When I heard that healthy little heartbeat at my doctor's appointment, how the tears flowed!
It's Logan's fault, really. What with his moving and contracting from such an early point in my pregnancy, that kid has me expecting to feel summersaults from 15 weeks. I've spent the last probably six weeks troubling over the fact that I'm not feeling movement even though that's still completely in the safe zone. There was a good 10 day period where I convinced myself I'd absolutely lost the baby. Several nights in a row, I cried myself to sleep imagining the worst, though I was assured by nurses we were probably fine. When I heard that healthy little heartbeat at my doctor's appointment, how the tears flowed!
There's a scene in the Sex and the City movie which always struck a chord with me.
Carrie and Charlotte are shopping, and Carrie asks her why she's quit running after finding out about her pregnancy. She responds:
"I have everything I ever wanted. I'm so happy that I'm terrified. No one gets everything they want... Of course something bad is going to happen to me."
And here I am. Two beautiful, smart, healthy and happy little ones who call me mom, and this big pregnant belly. What kind of a glutton am I that I think I'm entitled to another? Without so much as trouble getting pregnant or a miscarriage to speak of. How did that happen?
I don't know the answer, but I am oh so thankful it did. And so very grateful that this Little Surprise has begun to wiggle to give me a little peace of mind about his or her well being. Grateful that, for whatever crazy reason, this turned out to be in the cards for us. I could go on, but that's probably enough of that for one day.
In lighter news, I feel great. So great. The morning sickness has ebbed and I've been able to go back to eating a normal diet. I've been able to exercise, though the sciatica I get with every pregnancy means that I have to be careful about which exercises and how much. The point? I'm exercising! And not just walking and swimming like in previous pregnancies per doc's recommendations! That's a big deal for me.
I don't have very many cravings, though I could eat a spicy Santiago's breakfast burrito every single day. There's never a time those don't sound amazing to me. I've also been able to go back to eating salad, which is another milestone for me since in the first 16 or more weeks even the thought of a salad made me gag. The only time I ate one, I promptly threw it up again. (I know you wanted to know that!)
I'm still convinced this baby is a girl, and I'm having major anxiety about the fact that we won't find out. The last two nights in a row, I've woken up at 4 a.m. with crazy dreams about our upcoming would-be gender ultrasound. Two nights ago, I dreamed that I convinced Casey to do the same thing we did four years ago and have a pink or blue cake baked (in my dream, the cake was pink, by the way). Last night, dream-Melissa just sat in the ultrasound room and cried. I think it's safe to say that I have some issues related to not finding out gender. Type-A rears its ugly head.... we shall see whether I can keep from caving...
As for naming this baby, we're holding strong with "Hey You." Girl or boy, it doesn't really matter. Little Surprise is growing on me, too, though I'm not sure what it'll do for Baby's chances of being president.
Nesting is a thing, and it's happening. Twenty weeks doesn't seem like enough time to do all the things that need to happen before this baby arrives. The kids' room has to be done. Leah needs to be night-time potty trained. The big one has to practice sleeping on a top bunk. The little one has to be moved to a big-kid bed. The nursery has to be redone (since, well, it was never actually finished to begin with, and what was done was done for a boy). I may or may not have crazy pregnancy dreams about all those things, too.
It's definitely my third pregnancy, because this is the very first photo I've taken of the belly, which is either lovely and refreshing or kinda sad, depending on which way you look at it.
{Just in case you were under the impression that each and every pregnancy is the same, or that pregnancy doesn't have a lasting effect on the body...}
Twenty weeks down! One very, very loved Little Surprise.
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