Talking myself into it
The baby is getting bigger. I started feeling movement around 13 weeks, but now B can feel the baby move too. If I wasn’t so unenthusiastic about taking care of another child it would be exciting.
I hate that I feel so blah about this. I wish that I was able to feel happy. I’m more than 20 weeks into this pregnancy and I’ve gotten used to the idea of it, but it’s still not something I’m thrilled about. It would be easier if I could just skip the pregnancy part and go straight to the baby. I’m sure I could muster enthusiasm about a baby, but there’s nothing pretty about being pregnant.
I hate being pregnant. I hate the congestion and the asthma and the not being able to get a little bit drunk now and then. I hate the indigestion and the lack of appetite and my lack of interest in anything remotely healthy to eat. I hate the neverending exhaustion. I hate that all maternity clothes are either too big or two small and seriously, maternity designers, what the fuck is up with all of the 3/4 length sleeves? I don’t particularly care for the length when I’m not pregnant, why do you think I want them now? And the belly. It just keeps getting bigger. It gets in my way when I wash dishes, put the baby in his crib, read stories to my kids, squeeze through small spaces. And my belly button is just gaping open. It’s disgusting. I hate being so clumsy and the way my ass is always hanging out of my pants. I hate that I have to pee two minutes after I finish peeing.
Maybe I should try to find some good things.
This pregnancy isn’t as bad as my pregnancy with T. The baby, unlike his older brother, actually sleeps so I’m not feeling the sleep deprived desperate depression I felt during my last pregnancy. I don’t have terrible heartburn at the moment. I haven’t gained a billion pounds. I think I’m only up about 15. The doctor at our 20 week ultrasound told us that I’m farther along than I think I am- I’m probably closer to 23 weeks than I am to 21.
I like babies. I like newborns. I don’t mind the lumpy, sleepy, nursing all of the time stage of the first three or four months. I’m lucky the baby is going to be a spring baby, not a dead of winter or a heat of summer baby. I’m lucky I’m not having twins. Or triplets.