A Little Souvenir from San Diego

Now that the big news is out, I feel a little more free to discuss this pregnancy. I seriously doubt that I will have the time or the energy to update with as much vigor and enthusiasm as I did when I was pregnant with Charlie. It's not that I'm not excited or happy or anything like that. It's just that pregnancy is an entirely different experience with a little one crawling around underfoot.

My focus is also very different. I didn't really give two shits about making a birth plan or really preparing for Charlie's birth at all, and this time I am handling it very differently. Birth is huge to me now, and there will probably be more posts about that than there will be posts detailing all the various orifices from which I'm leaking. I will get to the birth stuff another day, though. And the leakage, too, of course.

So let's talk about this little one. I have a nickname for this baby, but I'm wary of sharing because it is so gender specific that I'll be embarrassed if SHE doesn't end up being a girl. I can't help it, though - I really feel like this one is a girl and it excites me! For the first month or so, I felt like I was carrying another little boy, but once we had an ultrasound at 9 weeks, I began to feel differently. I will say this, though, that I will be thrilled either way. I know from experience that boys are completely awesome, but I would love to have the experience of raising a little girl, too. What matters to me is that the baby is healthy. Everything else is an absolute bonus. But we'll know for sure in about six weeks or so. (I'm 15 weeks pregnant now.)

My last period was on January 28. On March 1, I was lying in bed and thought, "Hey, I think my period is a little late." (I have been pretty fuzzy on dates and things since Charlie was born.) So I consulted my chart and realized that even though February was a short month, my period was indeed late. I mentioned it to Roy and said, "Well, it's probably because February was such a stressful month." I figured I had ovulated late or something, because February was indeed the motherlode of stress.

I thought that maybe I could be pregnant. I'd been sneezing like crazy and was really congested - I went through boxes upon boxes of Kleenex while I was pregnant with Charlie. So that was a clue. I'd also become very - ahem - regular, and I was farting up a storm pretty much all the time. Then there was this brief moment at the park when I felt vaguely nauseated for a split second, and I thought, "I wonder..."

So on March 2, I went to the doctor to talk about my depression. I got a referral to a therapist, and I figured I needed to know if I was pregnant before going in and possibly getting put on anti-depressants. That night, Roy took me to the Dollar Tree, and I bought five pregnancy tests. The cashier looked at me and said, "You want to be sure, huh?"

The plan was to test in the morning, but I had to pee badly. So I went into the bathroom as soon as we got home and took the test while Roy got Charlie ready for bed. Almost immediately I saw the second line appearing, which was totally different from when I found out I was pregnant with Charlie. Honestly, I was not surprised at all to see that second line come up. I guess maybe I just knew. At the same time, I think I would have been unsurprised if it had come up negative.

Of course, I grabbed my camera and took pics of the test. Roy and I met up in the hallway and I told him to go take a look. He saw, and then we hugged. We were happy, just shocked. And not shocked. (We weren't exactly trying, but we weren't really preventing, either.)

I was 4 weeks and 5 days pregnant, exactly how far along I was when I found out I was pregnant with Charlie.

The first week was really good. I ate well, had tons of energy, and in general felt absolutely thrilled about having another baby. Then the nausea hit. And the fatigue. And the next thing I knew I was crying every single day, wondering if we had made a mistake, if we were in over our heads, if we could handle this. I spent a lot of time in bed, feeling horribly depressed and insanely exhausted. Much of the first trimester played out this way. I felt like crap physically and emotionally, but around the 11 week point, just as it happened when I was pregnant with Charlie, I turned a corner.

Suddenly, I felt like me again. And I finally felt like sharing the news with people.

Many, many people have asked me (or have seemed to come to the conclusion on their own) that it's "just" pregnancy hormones that were making me so depressed. I actually have a big problem with this, for a couple of reasons:

1) Hormones should never be described as "just" hormones. Hormones are a huge fucking deal.

2) I've been struggling emotionally since Charlie was born. I don't think that the first trimester of pregnancy helped at all, but I certainly don't think that it's the main reason behind my depression. I've been feeling really good since I've been in the second trimester, but I also think that's because I've been in therapy for over two months and I've made some good changes in my life. I certainly have had some mega breakdowns in the past week, though.

So that's the story (well, part of it) of our second baby. It's pretty amazing to think that we went to San Diego back on Valentine's Day weekend as a family of three and came back as a family of four. Hands down, this baby is the best souvenir ever.

Even though I've been in maternity jeans since I was 10 weeks pregnant.