Second time around.

Oh man, pregnancy is so different the second time around.

Now granted, this is my third pregnancy. And don't you doubt that I think about my second baby all the time. I even had a dream the other night that she was a girl and we had named her Alexandria.... not sure why, as I'm not terribly fond of that name, but we did.

But this is the second time I've made it into my second and third trimesters. While I'm still full of excitement over the possibilities, the movements, the hopes and dreams that pregnancy has to offer, I find myself completely over pregnancy a majority of the time these days.

First, let me take you back to my first pregnancy. With Liana, I was infatuated over every little thing - every change, every movement, every aspect of being pregnant. I planned every aspect to the nth degree. I researched everything.... what was happening to my body; what to expect before, during, and after labor; what to register for; what my birth plan should include. I sat in awe at my belly. The pokes. The kicks. I was working weekends only, so I had all the time in the world to take care of myself. That included naps at any time of the day and bedtime when I wanted it. I felt like I was on top of the world emotionally, physically, and mentally. I had very few insecurities... I knew my baby would be perfect (even though I had those moments of "what if?"), I didn't question the changes occurring, I didn't compare myself to other pregnant mommies nearly as much. I was just infatuated and in love - with our baby, my life, my husband. For nine months, Mike and I rarely fought... not even bickered... because I was just too happy to really get angry with him.

He now considers himself lucky. ;)

Three years later, everything has changed.

I'm more insecure than ever. I feel fat. Huge, in fact. I compare myself to those around me even though I try desperately not to. Physically, mentally, emotionally, I feel exhausted. In turn, this makes me feel even more physically insecure because while the motivation to work out is there, the physical ability is lacking. I tire just by going up the stairs for pete sakes. My feet and hands are swollen more than they're not and working out (ie: getting hot and sweaty) makes them swell even more. I find myself needing to rest now more than ever because of this exhaustion but with much less time to do so. After all, there's something else that always seems more important.... like cleaning, doing laundry, talking to a friend, and of course, blogging. ;)

Bending over at this point is a chore, so my house is usually a disaster because everything Liana touches ends up on the floor. Seriously. One hour I'll have a baby in my ribs that leaves me intensely uncomfortable and unable to breathe, the next hour he'll be so low in my pelvis that it hurts to stand or walk. I often wonder if I don't have two babies in this belly of mine and one is just planning a great big surprise 6.5(ish) weeks from now. Can you imagine?! Part of me thinks I'd be overjoyed at twins because in all certainty, then I could be done with pregnancy forever. The other part of me cowers in fear of the possibility.

32 weeks brought with it a whole new joy, too. The joy of being unable to sleep comfortably. Until the past week, I've continued to sleep on my back as that's always been my most comfortable position and Dr. John gave me the go ahead to do so. No more though. I now find myself worrying about how it might affect the baby, let alone my internal organs that all this extra weight is pressing upon. Rolling over is quite the feat and our bed doesn't seem to have enough room in it most of the time. Mike tries to give me my space but realistically, I'd need our queen sized bed all to myself in order to truly have the space I need. So, sleep at times escapes me and when it doesn't, it's not the caliber of sleep I'm in need of.

My stomach is unsettled and my body is doing what it needs to do to get ready to have this baby. On one hand, thank God. On the other hand, I wish it would stop preparing. Preparing sucks.

My hormones are fluctuating constantly so I'm a moody mess at times. I find myself lacking patience with everything.... Mike, Liana, myself, life in general. Some days, it's a chore to take care of myself so taking care of my family on top of that just seems like too much to ask.  And yet, I want/have to. I often think to myself (as I fight with my toddler to do anything I want/need her to do), "Remember when you were pregnant with Liana and you only worked weekends and had only yourself to take care of? Yeah, that was nice."

I do have to say though, Mike's been amazing. I love a man that can step it up when his wife needs him to.

Emotionally, I feel less connected to this baby. I love him to death already, don't get me wrong. But when you're worried about work, keeping up a home, being a good spouse and a good mom to your VERY busy two year old.... well, your mind is often elsewhere. It isn't usually until 9pm, when Liana is FINALLY asleep, that I start to notice those kicks. That I start to think about what our life will be like in a few short weeks when he's actually here.

Within an hour or two though, it's off to bed. The next day comes quickly and it's just more of the same chaos. Getting from point A to point Z and all the points in between while balancing life. And did you know that getting to each of those points with a two year old takes 10x as long and uses 10x as much energy?! It does. :)

My home is unprepared for a new baby. Liana's nursery was done by this point in my pregnancy. I've spent the last 8 weeks preparing Liana for the transition into her "big girl" room and in the process, haven't felt right changing her old nursery over quite yet and haven't had the time to do so, anyways. It seems that so much of our attention has been on Liana's needs that we've often forgotten about the baby's needs. I know he won't know the difference.... but I do.

So, things aren't nearly as easy the second time around. Things are more hectic. More chaotic. Less focused. More exhausting.

But I will say this....

I cannot wait to meet this little man of mine. Possibly now more than ever because of the reality that I'm not enjoying pregnancy as much as I did last time.

I do love to feel his kicks. His pokes. His movements. That joy of pregnancy does not escape me. 10x more so when they don't include sending me into fits of pain and discomfort.

Given the alternative, I'd go through all of this every single day in order to have the outcome I'm hoping for now. The outcome of a healthy baby boy in my arms. Because despite my discomfort, I still know just how thankful I am to be in this spot, right here, right now. Because some people don't get to do this. And I know what it feels like to lose a baby.... it's a feeling no mother should have to endure. I hope I never experience that kind of pain, or a pain worse than it, again.

There's also a few things that are offered in your second pregnancy that wasn't available in your first....

The ability to make your firstborn a big brother/sister. To see the bonds form between the two of them. To give them "their person" in life. You know.... the one they can depend on. The one that knows every chapter to their story.

Peace of mind. I know now that I can take care of a baby. Be a good mom. I know I can go without sleep. I know that things may be hard (hopefully not much harder than I expect them to be...) but that in the end, it's usually okay. And if it's not okay, it's not the end.

I know that the first two years of your child's life are cakewalks compared to the third year of life. That's when the real hard work begins. (Oh, sweet Liana.... so much you have taught me these past few months!)

Wish me luck as I continue on this path for the next 6.5 weeks... or less if I'm lucky. I pray for patience, for comfort, for preparation. I know that once I get there and look back, I'll think about how this time flew by and I'll miss it. But for now, it seems that I'll  just have to deal with those emotions as I reach them. :)