Hi! It’s so exciting to be back at Parenting.com. I loved every minute of my guest blogging week for the Daily Fave in February, and was encouraged and touched by the warm welcome and terrific feedback I received on my essay and blog posts. I’m thrilled to be back again, chronicling my adventures for Project Pregnancy.
I live in Los Angeles with my husband J, my daughter E, and my six-year-old dog, Tucker. I’m a freelance writer and full time mom, and while I aspire to be Supermom and do it all perfectly, my life is pretty hectic. Between chasing E, keeping up with the housework, and writing every spare minute I have, things can get crazy. A good day is one where the breakfast dishes get done before lunch. A bad day is when the breakfast dishes get done with the next day’s breakfast dishes. J travels quite a bit for his job, so E and I are on our own a lot. She just turned two, and is curious, stubborn, adorable, doesn’t stop talking for a second and keeps me laughing all day long.
We always knew we wanted more than one child. But after E, who’s been quite a handful, we were less concerned with how quickly that needed to happen. When her second birthday was on the horizon, and after we finally moved to a bigger place, J and decided it was to start thinking about giving her a sister or brother. I tossed my birth control pills in the trash and left things up to fate, figuring we had plenty of time—after all, these things don’t happen overnight. A few weeks later, fate decided it was time for #2.
Wait. What?!?! Pregnant? Seriously? This second pregnancy scared me in a way I never felt with E. Maybe because I know what I’m in for, or because I already spend a good portion of my time wishing for more hours in the day and another set of arms—and that’s just with the 1.5 kids I already have. (Yes, Tucker counts as .5) Mostly, of course, we’re thrilled and excited, but I have moments of absolute blind panic when I look in the mirror and think Oh. My. God. What was I thinking?
I’m especially grateful for the opportunity to blog about my journey here, because I have a confession to make: I keep forgetting I’m pregnant. No, I’m not kidding. Yes, that probably makes me a front runner in the competition for Worst Pregnant Mom Ever.
With E, I knew exactly how far along I was at any given moment, right down to the day, hour and minute. I knew which food to compare her approximate size to (sesame seed, walnut, lime, grapefruit, etc.) I spent my days on the internet, looking up pregnancy and parenting websites, shopping for cribs, researching strollers and car seats and swaddling blankets.
This time, I only know how pregnant I am—almost fifteen weeks—because I just looked it up for the purposes of writing this post. I’m usually too busy to pay attention to the physical changes, and yes that includes the nausea, the back pain, and the fact that my bras don’t fit anymore. I’m breaking rules left and right, like the half glass of champagne I chugged at a party before I remembered I wasn’t supposed to be drinking. My first pregnancy was all baby, all the time. This one is the same—except it’s about the wrong baby. It’s still all about E.
Poor little #2. I promise to try harder and make you feel special, too.
Thanks for following me on this journey and sharing my adventures. Pregnancy is always a blessing and a miracle, even if I need to be reminded of that more often this time around. I welcome your advice, comments, and feedback, both from new moms-to-be and from those of you who have been down this road more than once. For more on my daily adventures with E, please come visit us at Karma, Continued. Can’t wait to hear from all of you!