Pregnancy is fascinating. Recent observations:
This thing where I can hear my heartbeat in my ears half the day is annoying. It’s like tinnitus, but worse. I mean, I trust that my heart’s beating, so I don’t really need more reminders.
Once upon a time I could eat well all day and then snack in the evening and skip dinner. Now? HA. I just demolished a plate of room service potato skins at 9 pm because yeah. No skipping dinner.
Sitting in front of a full room of people listening to a panel discussion on which you are a panel discuss-ee while the Tiniest Capen practices swimming backflips is seriously surreal. Trying to listen while also trying to interpret the internal movement does not make me the most responsive speaker ever.
When I left home on Wednesday, I hugged Justin and said “I don’t want to leave you.” He asked why, and I paused. I thought. And I said, “I have no idea, so I’m going with ‘hormones’ as my answer.” Like I should stay home with him? Because we should be together right now?
I suddenly understand why the second trimester is the golden time. I feel fine. I feel good. I feel pretty great, actually. The first three months? Bleh. Later? Probably going to be awkward and uncomfortable, by all reports. Now? Pretty cool.
My body image is in bizarro land. I mean, I spent the last three years figuring out my asthma and joint problems, resetting my perceptions on food, losing 20 pounds, and starting to get stronger and healthier. And now suddenly I’m less resilient, breathing is harder, sleeping is harder, and my job is to eat all the things (but only the healthy things). So I’ve gained something like 12 pounds in the last 4 months, and it feels so instinctively wrong to let that happen without fighting it, but these are new and different circumstances. And here’s the kicker: If I gain a total of 30 pounds or more, I will break 200 pounds. And I will quietly lose my shit while I deal with that.
But generally? This is fascinating. An experience worth observing.