Dear Second Pregnancy,
Our time together has been awesome – we’ve laughed, we’ve cried, we’ve farted uncontrollably and we might have even peed our pants a time or two (allegedly….laughing too much is a dangerous sport people). I couldn’t be more grateful for the opportunity to again grow a tiny human (or at least what I am assuming will be a tiny human) and to experience the kicks and nudges and changes all associated with being pregnant.
The time has gone so fast and I know that years from now I will be trying my damnedest to recall what it felt like to be pregnant, what freedom I felt to just sit back and rub my belly and talk to it openly and in public even…..this isn’t really a socially acceptable act for anyone other than a pregnant woman.
Hello burrito..*pat pat* you sure were delicious to eat *burp*, hope you are enjoying yourself in there. (people around you scoot away in horror)
It is sort of amazing that being pregnant is all of a sudden an okay excuse to look like a schizophrenic.
We’ve had a great time and again I will never ever EVER regret the past 9 months. However, I do believe the time has come, my dear sweet second pregnancy, for us to go our separate ways. It is time for you to give me my sweet little squishy baby (or alien…whatever is in there I suppose….hopefully it isn’t just a burrito!). I think he is big enough, he has had plenty of time snuggled in there (honestly I am surprised he isn’t tired of the headrush from being upside down for the past several months) and I am pretty confident that he is ready to come out and meet me too.
Obviously I have ulterior motives in mind for our break up as well. I sure would enjoy not having to take a tums just thinking about what I will eat for my next meal. As we’ve discussed, it also would be nice to be able to control my flatulence once again (knock on wood that ability returns). I also wouldn’t mind having the bladder capacity of more than 2.23 ounces and to be able to put clothes on the bottom half of my body without grunting and huffing and looking very sad and pathetic.
*sad-pathetic story: about a week ago, Andy and I were talking in the laundry room as I got dressed. I was attempting to put on a pair of underwear: I bent over, paused to get stable, and then proceeded to drop my underwear onto the floor…..I stopped mid-sentence and just stared pathetically down – still hunched over – at the pair of underwear on the ground. A wave of helpless sadness passed over me. Then I shuffled forward and put my feet in the leg holes and then paused again. Andy watched the sad sad scene and then finally said ‘I’ll get them’ and reached down to pull up my underwear for me. A keeper for sure.
I know our relationship is something some women take for granted and I truly hope that I’ve tried to never do that. You’ve been great and wonderful and I do feel like the luckiest woman in the world…..but it just really is time. We’ve had our fun, now it is time for you to head off into the world and bless some other woman with your love and gifts.
We probably won’t ever get back together….we’ll see each other at parties, I’ll be happy for you and your new partner, I might even tell you I miss you, but it’s time….it’s time for us both.
Thank you sweet second pregnancy. Now off you go!
Here’s another indoor hippie shot with me and second pregnancy showing off the fruits of my affair with first pregnancy….let’s not tell Jack’s dad about draping him with hippie fabrics too okay (he wanted red)? Our secret….or at least until I order prints and put them
in a photo album on the wall.