Those first weeks were rough, to say the least. The constant nausea sitting in the pit of my stomach all day long, kept at bay by shoveling food and hard candies in my face at frequent intervals. My OB/GYN said happily "oh good, you've gained some weight!" While I love him for putting a positive spin on it, I still felt huge very early on. The exhaustion kicked in pretty quickly too - even more so from having to chase Owen around too. It's true that pregnancy is a whole different kind of worn out when you already have a toddler in the house....and then there were the poopy diapers. Husband is my savior for handling all of those between weeks 6 and 13, when the immediate need to hurl finally abated. I think the hardest part about the first trimester is keeping all of this under wraps while you're waiting to feel confident enough to go public.
I'm now considered of "advanced maternal age" having turned the grand old age of 35 this year. The one upside of that being that I got to do one of the fancy new blood tests (MaterniT21) that cover both genetic screening as well as gender. I don't even think that test was available just 2 short years who when I was pregnant with Owen. It was pretty remarkable to know at 11.5 weeks pregnant that I was having a boy. I think our families were a little disappointed as they all had their "think pink" banners waving proudly. I'm actually pretty excited about a mom to boys though - they'll probably try to kill each other (lovingly of course) and we may have to bubble wrap the house, but I'm thrilled to see how they form their brotherly bond.
Meanwhile, Owen, who I don't quite think has caught on to what's happening with mommy, is just the sweetest boy. He's growing up so fast and the milestones he's achieving are much more subtle than in the first 18 months, but amazing all the same. Being able to understand his words and getting a better idea of what he wants is a huge relief. His love for books and puzzles makes me so proud. The stories from daycare of how he gave one of the babies a toy they dropped, or handed them their bottle, make my heart full with love for the wonderful big brother he's going to be. The flip side is that I also get the occasional story about how he sat on one of the babies thinking he could play horsey with them, which make me nervous for the inevitable time when the words "don't sit on your brother's head" will come out of my mouth.
There has been so much going on that I've missed coming here and sharing with you. I am hoping I can get some momentum back despite all the craziness. The next chapter begins!