It's not really BIG news, I suppose. Just more of me getting big. Ugh.
I started this blog 2 years ago after Ansley was born. It was a Mommy blog, and I didn't really have much intention of turning it into a pregnancy blog.
But, then again, I do know what the number one cause of pregnancy is, thankyouverymuch.
So, here I sit, 22 weeks pregnant. Not "preggo" or "preggers." I have never been able to get on board with those terms. Knocked up, ehh, could be worse I suppose. "Preggo" just really makes me want to eat spaghetti. Like, I think I've got the Pavlov Effect going on right now.
Many have asked how this pregnancy has been different from my first. Well, for starters, I have little boy parts in my uterus. That's a pretty big difference. And, to be completely honest, it totally freaks me out. Sometimes, when he's moving around, and I can't figure out what body part is where... Ok, arms, check. One leg, two legs, so what...is...eww.
I also have seemed to reach the wanting-it-to-be-over phase much quicker. I know the little guy still has 18 weeks to bake, and I certainly don't want him to come as early as his big sis (as my doc says, wimpy white males have the most trouble if they are born early), but I seriously don't know how I will survive the next 18 weeks. EIGHTEEN WEEKS. THE REST OF JANUARY. ALL OF FEBRUARY. ALL OF MARCH. ALL OF APRIL. NEARLY ALL OF MAY.
I suppose I don't feel all that bad, except at the end of the day. Then those cursed round ligaments start aching, and the waddle comes on full force. And the marital duties (which, to be completely honest, cause contractions that freak me out even more than the little boy parts swimming around inside).
Another huge difference is what I want to eat. Sweets. All.the.time. Cakes, candy bars, ice cream. With Ansley, I couldn't get enough fresh fruit. Sweets made me wanna head to el ban-yo to say goodbye to my stomach contents.
Which is another difference. With Ansley, morning sickness made me toss my cookies, regularly. But I felt better afterwards. With this kid, the goldfish-swimming-in-my-stomach feeling was a constant, though the cookie toss wasn't as regular. Which means I've spent a lot more time sitting in the floor in front of the toilet wishing I had cleaned it better.