If you spend any time at all perusing my archives you’d probably find the word “pregnancy” is often surrounded with words/onomatopoeia like “dislike,” “ugh,” “undignified,” and “bleh.” For a person that struggled mightily to conceive in the first place all those years ago, you’d think I’d be more appreciative of how magical it is to be pregnant and what a flat miracle it is that ANYONE gets born. (Seriously, if you throw yourself down that Google rabbit hole, the fact that conception happens TO ANYONE seems like the biggest long-shot miracle in the world. So many things that must go exactly right, at the right time!)
I am appreciative of all the miracle-working going on. But it’s a sacrifice and it can be unpleasant and, yes, look, this is not exactly NEWS to most of you so let’s keep moving forward with my actual STORY for today. I was up at 4 am and I was staring off into the darkness with a chocolate donut in my hand (as you do) and I found myself wondering if I’d miss this. This being a 4 am insomnia-induced wakeup, where the house is quiet and I feel well-rested and I can eat chocolate donuts without any shadow of nutritional guilt. Would I remember this moment fondly?
Yes, I thought, I will probably wistfully remember this chocolate donut.
I will also miss all these months of never ever feeling fat, despite tipping the scales at numbers I’ve grown familiar with as What I Weigh When Pregnant. Seriously, it’s been glorious to get dressed every day (okay, I get dressed most days) and not have to ever consider if this shirt or these pants make my I-have-already-had-two-babies gut look even BIGGER. I am the special snowflake that gains most of her cookie weight in her middle, so when I’m not pregnant it’s just a cruel evolutionary joke. (She MIGHT be four months pregnant, but she’s not! Definitely don’t ask!) But when I AM pregnant I seem to have been able to avoid swollen ankles or fingers, which is nice. I do not have The Pregnancy Bloat. I would not go so far as to say I feel BEAUTIFUL while I am pregnant (I don’t) but I certainly don’t feel ugly. I feel like an acceptable, alternate version of myself with permission to wear clothes that accentuate what I’d usually try and hide.
I’m trying to savor big lungfuls of memories of Just The Two Girls. I get to KEEP Just The Two Girls, but the part where I have just two kids to keep track of at Target is nearing its end. It was, admittedly, a short ride on this particular parenting train. (20 months.) Mostly, I’m trying to remind myself how EASY life is right now. How QUIET it can be in the evenings. Everyone sleeps, everyone feeds themselves, everyone picks up her own toys. I have time to move laundry around, take a shower, and cook dinner. Life is rather leisurely at the moment.
38 weeks tomorrow. I’m enjoying these last days (and last chocolate donuts).