i keep forgetting i’m pregnant. it is a really weird feeling to be moving along as normal and then all of a sudden a belly carrying a baby the size of a mango gets in your way. with ramona, i don’t think a second went by that i wasn’t aware there was a belly and a baby in that belly. but for some reason, this time around, i seem to think i can continue doing all the stuff i usually do when not carrying a child: advanced yoga, shaving my legs, trimming my toes, laying on my stomach comfortably, fitting into my favorite pair of jeans, carrying a heavy load. i go to do these things and almost every single time i find myself saying to myself, “oh yeah. that’s right. there’s a belly with a baby in it that’s in the way. better adjust your plan of action.” which is ridiculous bc i’ve undeniably got a pregnant belly.
i’m not small. i’m not huge yet but i’m certainly PREGNANT. definitely much bigger than these photos of me 18 weeks pregnant with ramona where i’m just exclaiming that, gee i think i popped. oh boy, i popped a long time ago with this little bugger. part of it is that i had a handful of extra pounds on me to begin with this time around. part of it is that my body just has decided to go straight to where it needs to go. “oh. i remember this. i’m going to need to make room for a little human. better get there now before it stretches me there.” thanks, body. i’m glad you’re efficient at what you need to do but i do wish i could remember that you’re doing it.
i’m not concerned about weight gain. i’ve never been one to shudder at the number on the scale. certainly not when i’m with child. i am concerned that it, this belly, keeps catching me off guard — it’s getting in the way too soon this time around! pregnancy was quite enjoyable for me for most of the time i was pregnant with ramona. this time? not as much. it’s just a little more, well, difficult than i remember it being. (little bug: when you read this when you’re older please be assured that this in no way takes away my love of you. babies of the family –of which i am one and you will be– are inherently a little more of a handful and i wouldn’t have it any other way). 21 more weeks of belly-ness. i can do it. i can do it!
women who had more than two, just how did you manage that craziness done to your body?! i know it can be done but it’s hard for me to wrap my head around it.
thrifted cardigan || thrifted allen allen maxi dress || thrifted moccasins (not pictured but i’m on a roll with thrifted amazingness so i wanted to keep going) || scarf from denver boutique inspyre || urban outfitters belt || [i have been living in this outfit. it’s so perfect for a bump in fall]
dear bug,
i am 17 weeks. we heard your heartbeat again this week at maren’s office. it thrills me every time. i can feel you moving — though distinguishing between gas bubbles and little baby kicks is still something of a challenge. i know, soon enough, your movements will be undeniable.
all of this is a relief to me since, at 5.5 weeks, i experienced a lot of bleeding. sitting at the dining room table on july 17 i felt something odd. in the bathroom i discovered my worst fear: there was bright red blood when i wiped. there was so much i didn’t think anything else besides that i was miscarrying. i called papa and nona. papa came home right away and nona just sat with me on the phone being a listening ear to my wails. resigning ourselves to this loss, your papa and i went out with a bang the next evening to celebrate our five year anniversary: an intense reflexology foot massage, martinis, wine, yummy italian food.
the next morning, commenting to someone (who has experienced far more losses of life in the womb than is right for anyone) that my bleeding had stopped and it was so weird how uneventful a miscarriage was, i was asked if i thought that maybe i didn’t miscarry. the thought hadn’t even crossed my mind. so after confirmation from my midwife that intense bleeding can happen and the pregnancy can still be viable, i went to urgent care for an ultrasound. there you were, miracle baby, thrill-giver. all gestational and yolk sac. full of promise of life. but no guarantees.
another ultrasound two weeks later allowed us to breathe out, finally, a sigh of relief: a heartbeat. it was safe to be cautiously optimistic. and we’ve only grown more so with every check-up and strong heartbeat and flutters in mama’s belly. nothing is guaranteed. nothing is certain. our breath will be always a little withheld until the day you arrive. and even then, we will continue to worry and to fret and to hope big hopes for you and your life and your development.
little bug, we love you. every single little itty bitty part of you that is growing strong and big as can be in my tummy until the day you arrive.
love, mama.
what mama wore: vince shirt || mossimo tank from target (i own a bajillion of these) || gap maternity jeans || frye carson flats (the best damn black flats i ever did own)
dear little bug,
it’s been 16 weeks since you’ve been brewing! this pregnancy, little one, is in some ways so different than what i experienced with your big sister but also so so similar. you both knocked me on my butt for a solid eight weeks during the first trimester. you made me tired and exhausted and unable to eat my usual foods or go a day without dry heaving — a symptom of pregnancy that is your papa’s least favorite thing to deal with.
but miss ramona, your big sister, she keeps me busy. and does her darndest, consciously or otherwise, to keep me distracted from you. sometimes i forget i am pregnant, little bug. each day is go, go, go with ramona (you’ll soon discover). and so i must remember to take moments on the couch when i’m reading with miss mo, or during nap time, or lying still before bedtime, to spend some time with you, to feel you wiggle and flip inside me, to send good vibes your way with a gentle hand on my belly, and deliver fresh air to you via deep, meaningful breaths. you are a great excuse to seek mindfulness in the everyday.
it’s how it is: the second child not necessarily getting the documentation which could be afforded with the first one. but, sweet child, i was also the baby of the family, and so i intend to remember these moments with you in my belly, and then with you as a newborn, as vividly as i can. i want to be able to pass on sweet sweet memories to you.
16 weeks? we’re not even halfway there yet. but we’ve heard your heartbeat and i’ve felt you move. and my tummy is slowly but surely moving into the baby bump stage. right now, it’s debatable what’s baby and what’s just some extra padding i procured in between being pregnant with your sister and you. no matter. i’ll embrace it. i’m growing with you!
i love you, little bug. love, mama
|| wool cardigan: j.crew || maternity/nursing top: RoundBellies (thanks, mama!) || jeans: gap || shoes: frye ||
here is me at 16 weeks pregnant with miss ramona bean.
readers, what are your favorite pair of maternity jeans? here i’m wearing gap, but i bought them in a smaller size than i’m used to so they wouldn’t fall off my ass, but now i’m afraid it’s going to make my midsection suffer later. also, i bought a camera remote. here are some outtakes.
Grave, my wife lies back, hands cross
her chest, while the doctor searches early
for your heartbeat, peach pit, unripe
plum–pulls out the world’s worst
boom box, a Mr. Microphone, to broadcast
your mother’s lifting belly.
The whoosh and bellows of mama’s body
and beneath it: nothing. Beneath
the slow stutter of her heart: nothing.
The doctor trying again to find you, fragile
fern, snowflake. Nothing.
After, my wife will say, in fear,
impatient, she went beyond her body,
this tiny room, into the ether–
for now, we spelunk for you one last time
lost canary, miner of coal
and chalk, lungs not yet black–
I hold my wife’s feet to keep her here–
and me–trying not to dive starboard
to seek you in the dark water. And there
it is: faint, an echo, faster and further
away than mother’s, all beat box
and fuzzy feedback. You are like hearing
hip-hop for the first time–power
hijacked from the lamppost–all promise.
You couldn’t sound better, break-
dancer, my favorite song bumping
from a passing car. You’ve snuck
into the club underage and stayed!
Only later, much, will your mother
begin to believe your drumming
in the distance–my Kansas City
and Congo Square, this jazz band
vamping on inside her.
[today we heard the heartbeat of our little bug. ramona and papa were perched next to mama’s head while maren worked her magic to amplify the sounds of the still teeny, moving, little squirm that’s located inside me somewhere behind my pubic bone. we weren’t expecting to hear it and so my heart did flips when we did. even though we’ve seen the heartbeat twice now on ultrasounds, there is just something so so magical about hearing it. i posted this same poem when we heart ramona’s heartbeat for the first time.]
yeah, it doesn’t look like a baby to us either. but there he or she is! little bug PowerDriver, due sometime around 3/21/14.
this explains my absence, my exhaustion, my overall disinterest and inability to engage in anything beyond sitting on my couch watching ramona play with blocks or, if she needs more attention than i can give her, watching her watch television. a lot of it. way more than is good for a two-year-old. power to the mothers that rear more than two offspring bc this first trimester has been a good reminder to jp and me of why two, at least when it comes to child-rearing, will most likely be our lucky number.
with ramona, we essentially talked one night about having a baby, tried one night to make a baby, and then 40 weeks later, had a baby. this little bugger took many more months’ effort. and it has been humbling to experience the emotions of anticipation and disappointment and impatience and fear and insecurity and the unknown. our bodies are incredible things; the way we work has me in awe. i do not take this privilege of carrying this sack of life inside of me lightly.
|| weekly belly posts to commence at next week at week 12. i’m huge already. ||
welcome
