I’m a lucky woman. I do not get morning sickness. It’s not that I just don’t get it in the morning, I don’t get it. At all. In the first month, when my baby’s embryo was forming, I felt slightly nauseated from time to time, but since then I have not felt sick, nauseated, ill, awful, miserable, or nasty. At all. I didn’t get it with Little Miss, and I haven’t gotten it yet with this baby (who doesn’t actually have a nickname yet). I know – I’m lucky.
However, I have not escaped some of the other fun-filled first trimester pregnancy experiences, and am even experiencing some I never had with Little Miss. One of the most fun (honestly, no sarcasm!) is my “baby bump.” With Little Miss I didn’t start really showing until a couple of weeks into my third trimester, because of two factors: 1) It was my first pregnancy, and 2) I am quite overweight (probably considered obese, actually). So for most of my pregnancy, my body held onto its shape and resisted stretching, and any baby shape around my midsection just melted into preexisting me-fat.
With this baby, however, I am just now at 8 weeks (or so I think – haven’t had my first doctor’s appointment yet – that’s next week), and already my pants are tight and I’m having to pull out my stash of maternity clothes. While that’s exciting, it’s also frustrating because my third trimester was during the summer last time. So all my maternity clothes are short-sleeved, sleeveless, and cropped pants. I live in the pacific northwest of the U.S. and it’s October. Time to invest in maternity sweaters!
While getting to see my belly growing this early excites me, I read something yesterday that kind of popped my bubble. Apparently that “baby bump” is a misnomer. It’s really just retained water. But “water bump” doesn’t sound nearly as cute, so we’ll stick with the norm, since it really is the baby’s “fault” anyway, right?
Another symptom I never experienced with Little Miss was achy breasts. (To any guys reading this – I apologize, but this is what you get for reading a mom blog.) This one is not as exciting as the belly thing. At random times throughout the day, just the simple act of walking is painful to my poor “girls,” and then there comes the torture (that used to be so relieving!) called removing my bra. After being held in place all day the sudden freedom my boobs experience at being released isn’t so grand these days.
I remember napping more than usual while pregnant with Little Miss. (i.e. I actually napped.) I was tired, but for some reason I don’t remember that being an issue until the third trimester, either – when I was getting huge and hauling all that frontal weight around wore me out. It was about the same time I started waddling instead of walking.
This time, though…I’m tired ALL THE TIME. I space out while sitting on the couch on Sunday afternoons watching Little Miss play with her doll on the floor. I fall asleep while watching TV with Husband after Little Miss goes to bed. I spend my lunch hour doing more yawning than chewing. (I actually just yawned while typing that.)
I’m pretty sure I can put my finger on the factors involved in this difference, too. I was in denial for so long with my first pregnancy that I was practically through my first trimester before we “found out” we were expecting. That same year I was attempting to put on a living nativity at my church, and it was the first they’d ever done, so I was running the entire show. Two nights of two hours each of shifts, animals, costumes, visitors, canned goods collecting, cookies, hot chocolate, and props. Any exhaustion I felt made perfect sense in light of the fact that I was working full time AND attempting this crazy project at church. The day I got my positive pregnancy test was the first day of the living nativity. Needless to say I was in a fog that entire weekend.
Another factor was that that pregnancy was my first. In other words, I didn’t have a toddler running around the house in the evenings and on weekends that I was expected to keep up with. I didn’t have to get up in the middle of the night to fetch a sippy cup of water or retrieve a lost pacifier from behind the crib or sit with a sniffly, coughy 2-year-old for an hour on the couch. When I got up in the middle of the night it was solely to use the bathroom…again.
And then there is the completely unlady-like symptom known professionally as “smelly farts.” We girls may glisten instead of sweating, but we certainly have no pleasant alternative term for the unearthly smells that emerge from our rears during pregnancy. Oh the joys.
In spite of all of these experiences I still find it hard to believe I’m growing another human being. It’s obvious on several fronts (even my own) that I’m pregnant and yet my brain still treats it as a dream, a wish, a hope. When is it actually going to sink in that it’s reality? I don’t know. But for now…I’ll just enjoy the ride. Smelly as it is…