One of the things that my pregnant cohort and I were bitching about the other day, was people constantly asking how we’re feeling. Which I’ve found to be true this time around too. Even people I barely know, ask frequently. And it’s starting to get old, and I’m also starting to run out of answers. Because I get the feeling they want me to hear me bitch, only to brush me off, or maybe make little tsking noises and feel sorry for me. I don’t know. I’m trying to find ways to get creative, because truthfully, I feel fine. I feel better than fine. I’m not sure if it’s that this pregnancy has been easier, or if I’m just old hat at this gig, but I am far more comfortable (and have been) this time, than I was with the Mini. I have very minor issues, but they’re not causing me to go insane or making it so that I can’t get around. Sure, I have my days where I’m more uncomfortable than others. I grunt when I get off the sofa. Putting shoes on is a challenge, but overall, I feel good, and with 8 weeks left to go, I’m sure that may change. Who knows, I think a lot of things. There’s nothing I can do to change anything.
I’ve been over being pregnant though for awhile. I think having done this in close proxmity to the Mini, I kind of dreaded all the nuisances about pregnancy. Like the bending, or waddling. But I wasn’t so ready that I wanted it to be over right this second, rather, I wanted to hang onto my time with the Mini for as long as I can. I want to enjoy this very short time I have left with him. I’m also not ready to rush into the hazy exhausting parts of infancy. I know what to expect on some level, but of course, it’s largely based on Fetus 2.0′s personality.
On the other hand, I’m getting very anxious to meet this child that will round out our family. I’m excited to get to know this little person that has been very actively occupying my uterus. I want to get to know what that little personality is like.
It still blows my mind that we’re having another child. One that wasn’t conceived through methods that are normal to me. That is, needles, petri dishes and lots of emotional heartache. I suspect that as they get older, they’ll ask where they came from, and each of them will have a different story. Both amazing in their own right, but both unique to them. And at the Mini won’t have to hear the gross details of how Mom and Dad had sex!