Wow, it is amazing that I didn’t blog my pregnancy this time. For shame! I just have been so busy with domestics/work/toddler/nursing/new home/etc. that I haven’t had time for the Internet. But, I miss you! And I promise to never leave you again! So, I have some catching you up to do, don’t I?
Ok, I found out I was pregnant very early December. I realized I was a week late on the “visit” and took a pregnancy test on my lunch break. Yes, some people eat bologna and wonder bread on their lunch breaks—I pee on sticks.
“Yayyyy! Woooo-Hooo!”… Followed by this awesome little bathroom stall dance that was pretty rockin’ cool… Followed by an, “Oh, shit! Holy Fuck!”… Followed by the 15-second flash forward of my Finally Back To Normal Figure gone to hell. I see curlers in my hair. I have love handles growing under my chin. I’m barefoot (no more stilettos because I might poke holes in the cement) with cracked paint on my toenails. My beloved Margaritas and Mojitos are a distant dream because now I drink Yoo-Hoos spiked with vodka. And I have a baby hanging from each of my huge, tacky hoop earrings because I no longer have what could even resemble a hip. My boobs no longer need a brazier because they fit comfortable in my lap and make awesome beer cozies for Jeremy while we watch the Jerry Springer Show.
Ok, maybe I am exaggerating. All of that didn’t go through my head really. But I was a little sad to think I’d have to wait almost a year for another Mojito. I do have the rest of my life to have a drink, and I’m not a huge drinker anyways. And I love these kids so much that it (the saggy breastesses, the yoo-hoos, the hoops) are all worth it!
Jeremy picked me up after work and I shared the great news! He couldn’t believe it! I was still nursing Bella (11 months old) at that time which is supposed to slow down ovulation, and being that I haven’t been the most fertile chick on planet Earth, I just never really thought it would happen so soon after Bella’s arrival. I figured we’d have the same bad ovary luck—try to conceive for MANY LONG YEARS, more miscarriages, only to fi-na-lly conceive a sibling for Bella to grow up with. Only by the time we finally did conceive, she would be “all growed up”, married and have a child herself. However, these super retardo ovaries decided they wanted us to have Bella and “Baby” within 18 months of each other. It works out great though, because I not only wanted Bella not to grow up alone like Austin had to, but also Would-Like-Very-Much-To-Have-My-Body-Back-Sooner-Than-Later-Thank-You-Very-Much!
Bella turned 1 in January. I turned. A-hem. 29… I mean 30. In February. I shall have hips again by 31. And a Marg.
I am 23 weeks pregnant now. I’m due late July, though planning for a mid July inducement since Bella’s gigantic 10.5 pound butt scared the hell out of me! Jeez, did you know I could have a child that big!? Dude! What the hell is the FDA injecting the damn hamburgers with? I craved fucking chopped ice, for goodness sakes—not double fudge Little Debbie’s and Weight Gainer 2000!
The ultrasound on February 7th said we’re having a wittle baby BOY. His name will be…. DRUM ROLL… A secret until his birth. Sorry! I think I want to meet him and then name him.
I love being pregnant, and I have decided to really embrace every bloated, waddling, leg cramping moment of this. Because I know this is my last time. And I know that it is one of those experiences in my life that is so special that it changes who I am all together. I’m embracing every moment!
Until next time…
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