So I thought, when we were throwing around the idea of number 3, that this one would be the easiest. Because, really, I've been pregnant with a boy, and pregnant with a girl. I've been pregnant in grad school and pregnant with a full time job. I've been pregnant and totally, grossly indulgent and I've been pregnant and super health conscious (though with a side of cupcakes). Long story short, this ain't my first rodeo. But I was so, so wrong.
See, the reality is that number 3 is even worse, because if it doesn't go just like numbers 1 and 2, something must be terribly wrong. These are things that I've said, out loud, in the last few weeks.
"I'm really worried that maybe the baby doesn't have legs and that's why I'm not feeling kicks yet."
After my last doctor's appointment, "I only gained two pounds." Said forlornly.
"Baby, please tell me that I look fatter today."
"I've been crazy, right? Right? I'm pretty sure I've been crazier than normal lately."
My dad told me that this was the most fit I've ever looked pregnant and I took it as an insult.
It's no exaggeration to say that when I'm pregnant, it hits me HARD. With the last two, I gained 60 pounds each. I'm 5'3" and have big babies, so they have nowhere to go but out. People have genuinely assumed that I was having twins and asked if it was triplets. I've been recognized in public by strangers based solely on the my enormity. So you'd think that I'd see my mini-bump as a blessing. An awesome bonus. The universe's way of cutting me and my poor stretched out belly a break. But noooooo. Because I'm insane I take my lack of girth as a sign of all things horrible. And the whole baby-moving thing? I have no idea, whatsoever, how far along I was when I could feel Eli and Syd. Instead, because I'm an overachiever, I took it to heart when they said that moms feel it sooner in subsequent pregnancies and so I've been freaked out since week twelve. Even though all the wisdom of the internets tells me that it's all totally normal and reasonable. Even though I know there's probably nothing to worry about. I mean, if nothing else my sugar intake is significantly lower than with Eli and Syd and this may be the first fetus who hasn't been all cracked out on baked goods (and as such, may sleep!)
Those of you with a first, second, third, fourth, seventeenth, or no kids, please reassure me that I'm merely a crazy lunatic and not intuitive or psychic. Because otherwise it's going to be a LOOOOOONNGG twenty-two weeks.