Today, I am 35 weeks and one day into my second pregnancy.
This pregnancy has been drastically different from my first. For one, we found out much, much sooner than we did with W. I actually knew I was experiencing morning sickness and fatigue instead of running every medical horror story through my mind, convinced I had cancer. This pregnancy I’ve had to contend with working full-time, chasing a one year old, and deal with gestational diabetes.
I’d be lying if I said I loved every minute; I can totally forgo racing to the bathroom because I’m afraid I’m going to hurl at work. But, I’d also be lying if I told you I didn’t love the experience.
Today, like many days past, my baby is twisting, turning, and kicking inside of me. There are times I am convinced my child has run out of room, or that he or she has confused my uterus for a dance floor. (I do love sparkle. Maybe there’s a disco ball in there?!) It’s not always comfortable. In fact, sometimes it can be downright painful. Other times, I stare at my stomach, completely fascinated to see my child moving within. It is a blessing I fully appreciate, and recognize not everyone receives.
Soon, very, very soon, my child will be born. (This pregnancy has raced by!) I am thrilled at the idea of meeting my son or daughter, of sharing the name my husband and I so thoughtfully picked out, and watching her develop a personality just as I did with her older brother. I look forward to it, and long for it.
I also know that just like with W, I am going to miss having my child inside me. I will miss the false sense that I can protect her from anything because she’s with me 24/7. I will miss the bump that has severely limited my wardrobe these past few months. Most of all, I’ll miss feeling her move inside; it is undoubtedly my favorite part of being pregnant, and I am thankful every day.