Oops. I Did It Again.

Sorry for the recent radio silence, friends. I've been wanting to at least post about my Bella turning four (FOUR!) years old and put up the last set of pictures of her in the white chair. The thing is? She will NOT SIT for pictures in the white chair. No way, no how. She is definitively and absolutely DONE with PICTURES IN THE WHITE CHAIR. (Sound out the all caps in a determined four-year-old voice for best effect.)

Hmph.

And the problem with that is? She's totally old enough now to make that call. I won't lie and say it doesn't break my heart into 17 million pieces, because it does it so does it hurts and I cry and I want to grab her and stuff her inside my shirt and not let her exercise that damn freewill and keep her as my baby forever, but that's not very rational or logical now is it?

So instead? I've been spending the last four months or so growing one of these:

Baby2 at 13 weeks.

Baby2 at 13 weeks, 6 days.

AHA! Take that grown-kid-freewill-exercising Bella! You don't want any more chair photos? I will merely create another small human who will have no choice to but to pose for me for at least another 3.5 years. Of course they also won't sleep more than two hours at time, require a great deal of personal attention and will  shit on me a lot. Literally.

*HEART ATTACK*

Anyhoo. That's what's up. I'm in my 16th week now and my due date (for what those are worth) is September 21. Some people will recognize that date because it also happens to be my birthday. FREAKY RIGHT? I KNOW.

 It's pretty exciting stuff but in light of what happened last summer I've been incredibly nervous to share this news on any public forum.  I'm still not sure it's the best move but like most things in this life sometimes you just have to breathe deeply and leap. And given the length and extent of the symptoms I've been experiencing this time around, I'm feeling pretty certain that this kid intends on making a very healthy and happy appearance in around six more months.

Because I risk coming off as a whiny ungrateful loser, I'll spare you the specifics on how sick this pregnancy has been making me. Actually fuck it, it's my pregnancy and I'll whine if I want to.

The day I reached the six week mark (on the dot) I woke up thinking I had the worst stomach flu ever. Then it lasted for eight weeks. WITHOUT GOING AWAY AT ALL. At seven weeks I called my doctor sobbing from my office and begging for relief claiming that I was surely going to die. She prescribed me Diclectin immediately and I ran not walked to her office to collect it. I've been taking it four times a day ever since and though it's allowed me to get up and drag my ass to work (in fact I've only missed one day of work thus far, that very first day when I thought I had the flu, stupid me). It did not curb the nausea and it only mildly reduced the vomiting. I have done some spectacular puking. Highlights include, three times on my street one morning in front of a construction crew. Once in a garbage can at the Dufferin Mall. And once in someone's recycling bin on garbage day. (Sorry neighbour).

Gladly, thankfully, blissfully, miraculously, amazingly, somewhere around 14 weeks the nausea started to subside. It's been getting steadily better, though I continue to throw up usually in the morning but at other random times as well. The puking is not fun, but it's no longer preceded and followed by the relentless, endless, pitiless nausea that I experienced in the first trimester. I'll take random barfing over that special brand of hell any day.

Besides, I've been having some really fun symptoms as well. Ever since I stopped feeling nauseous (a week ago), I'm really enjoying food in that OMGthisisthebestthingI'veevertasted pregnancy kind of way. I still have several aversions, but anything that's on the okay list with my hormones is tasting pretty fucking great. I'm also feeling the baby move all the time now. This is much earlier than I ever felt it with Bella.

And there's this, the funnest of all the symptoms:

Bump at 15 weeks.

And by funnest, I mean fattest. I gained 50lbs with Bella and I'm pretty sure I'm setting, if not surpassing, that pace this time around. I'm definitely showing way more. A friend described second pregnancies as "blowing up a balloon that's already been inflated at some point". Yes. That.

Pretty sure this 15 week bump is the same size as my 20 week bump from last time around. I know I'm going to have a hell of a fight on my hands to get back into shape after this baby is born but you know what? I'll deal with it when the time comes. For now I'm going to stop being hard on myself. Do my best to eat as healthy as possible without denying myself the simple delectable pleasure that pregnant eating can be. My doc has advised that I refrain from working out (I have had some bleeding which has now completely stopped), but I can't and I won't unless I see a return of the bleed. I really need the exercise for my physical and mental well-being. 

This will be my last pregnancy. I'm about 95% sure. Crown is 2179% sure. I refuse to take any of it for granted and want to share it and savour every minute of it. It's given me a hell of a time so far but I'm already so beyond in love with my bump and my wee baby. Beyond, beyond, beyond.