So, I have to say it…
I almost feel like I should whisper it so as not to a) jinx my so far
very pleasant pregnancy and b) anger those who haven’t had such a pleasant go
of it… But I love being pregnant. I mean sure, the first trimester, all I wanted
to do was lay on my couch and sleep. And
now I’m completely grossed out by Mexican food and chicken. I find that to be troubling, but
whatever. I can live with it.
But, I’ve felt good.
I’m still sleeping pretty well. I
haven’t gotten nearly as fat as I expected I might. My grandma says I
have a glow. I mean, I’ll take it. And maternity pants, seriously,
we’re in a
committed relationship. Do I really have
to give them up when this gig is over?
They are amazingly comfortable!
Why are more pants not made like this?
I mean, other than yoga pants. My
cravings haven’t been too insane. Sure,
I’ve eaten like six fun size bags of M&Ms today, but that really
counts as
like 1 ½ real bags, right?
So yeah, I like being pregnant. At this point, I feel like I could definitely
do this again. And man, the
decorating. I love the decorating. It’s making my heart so happy. People keep telling me the nesting is going
to set in and I just stare at them blankly.
I think I’ve been in a permanent state of nesting since we bought our
house. Pretty sure it’s just in my
blood. I’m okay with it. But I’ve looooved putting together the
nursery and seeing how it’s all coming together. I kind of want to squeal a little over
it. I restrain myself, mostly.
I’ve loved seeing my bump grow. And even more feeling the baby move more and
more. I haven’t exactly loved people’s
opinions on my growing bump. I’m not
sure why exactly pregnancy is free reign for everyone else to put their hands
on my belly (not okay!) and to comment how big I’m getting. I’m not a touchy person by nature, if we’re
not hugging friends (and believe me, those are a select few) you should not be
touching my belly. Co-workers,
definitely not! Same goes for commenting
on someone’s size. Unless it’s later to
say “Oh my gosh, you’ve gotten so skinny!” or, “You look great!” You should probably be keeping that, along
with your hands, to yourself. Now if we’re
related or close friends, a kind comment is fine. My husband’s sweet grandmother told me I was
just getting pregnant straight out. I
will take that! That fits all the
criteria: we’re related and it was
sweet!
Now, as for the whole baby arriving thing…. That part is terrifying and I just try not to
think about it too much. So what if I’ve
only ever changed two diapers in my entire life. And they were the diapers of a two year old
who stood up the whole time. Details,
right? I’m pretty sure we can figure
this out. There’s always Google.
