Saturday, April 10, 2010


I thoroughly enjoyed being pregnant with Corey, even though I vomited for the first and last three months.  Everything about being pregnant was fabulous and wonderful.

It was natural to wonder how my 37 year old body would handle pregnancy compared to doing it at 22.  Just so happens that being pregnant was even more wonderful and exciting than carrying Corey, and involved almost no vomiting whatsoever. 

Pregnancy glow?  Check.
Reduction in allergies?  Check.
Slower hair growth on the legs and pits?  Double check.
People happy to carry things and open doors for me?  Check.

Basically, if there was a benefit to being pregnant, I had it.  I honestly don't recall if any of those perks happened with Corey, mainly because I wasn't aware of the possibilities (and I didn't have allergies back then).

I will be the first to admit that I had less than a wholehearted desire to get pregnant again after Madelyn.  Nothing against Fynnie.  The first time Tom brought up having another baby was when we confirmed the singleton en utero.  And when last summer came and went without even a small twinkling of a reason to pee on a stick, I started to get excited about making plans for my body that only involved me (uh, don't get all pervy, I'm talking about getting my tattoo re-inked and setting up a couple of classes to teach up here... that kind of stuff). 

Clearly I am a willing and quite happy participant in the creation of the little girl inside me.  I cannot wait to meet her and watch what becomes of her life.

Still... I am also glad to know that this is our last baby.  It seems strange to think it, let alone put it out there, but once she is born, I am glad to be done. 

I suppose it is just the universe's way of keeping my focus on the children we have and not the ones we'll never have; instead of getting all the perks of pregnancy, here's what I have:

Allergies in full force?  Achoo... er... check.
Stuffy nose even when allergies are fine? Check.
Bloody nose?  Ugh... check.
Teenaged acne face? Spot, spot... why is that one bleeding?... and check.
Persistent nausea?  Check.
Recurring heartburn?  Check.
Backache, complete with torn hip muscle?  Youch!  Check.

So we're 10 days past the halfway mark.  I'm not in the kind of hurry to have Fynn that says, "I wish she'd hurry up and get here."  It's totally cool with me if she comes on time or even slightly late.  But I am looking beyond her birth and the year or so of nursing, and this pregnancy is helping to ensure I don't look back. 

Thank you, universe?
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