I’ve been waiting patiently to see this belly grow. This is my last pregnancy, and it didn’t really start out as magical as my first. But I’m trying to take it all in without judging myself for not having the easiest time so far this go around. I want to notice everything, even when it doesn’t line up with what I envisioned. And I’ve secretly been waiting for the moment where I can’t fit into my jeans anymore. Needless to say, it feels real now.
They say you tend to pop earlier in subsequent pregnancies, especially when you’re on the smaller side. In my case, this appears to hold up. To most people, I probably still just look like I’ve had a few too many burritos (it’d be easy to catch me at the Little Donkey in my hometown to confirm these suspicions) but I love this part. I mean, aside from my son calling me a “big fat chubby” this morning when I broke the news that no, he couldn’t watch TV because he had to get ready for school, the rest of it is pretty great. As mentioned, I didn’t feel well at all the whole first trimester. In fact, I really didn’t have a desire to eat much. Some days I was down to one meal a day because the nausea was so intense. But we pressed on, and now, I can finally see things are happening. She’s growing. Sure, she’s also siphoning my energy and my beauty, but we’ll reclaim those in due time.
It’s been a long time coming for this last little one.
But, like Gord Downie said, it’s well worth the wait…