One of my cousins lives quite far away with her RCMP husband and their 10-month old daughter. They’re both in Toronto for a wedding, so the whole band of our family got together to see them.
It’s fun to see her (and her husband) be Mom and Dad. It’s not weird, per say, but it is definitely not what I think of when I abstractly think of my cousin. It’s also quite funny to see my cousin’s parents being grandparents. They’re so over the top excited/helpful, it gives me a bit of a preview of how my parents are going to be. Especially because, like my Aunt and Uncle, my parents won’t be living anywhere near us while the Spawn grows up.
My cousin and I briefly talked about pregnancy and keeping track of it. (She wishes now that she had journaled.) We also talked about the photos/mementos of pregnancy. For I think completely different reasons, we’re both fairly uninterested in them. In her words, “I’ve always been small in exactly this way. I didn’t like being pregnant and feeling like it wasn’t my body. Why would I want to remember it?” I appreciated this attitude more than the “I’m so fat, I don’t want anyone to see me,” take.
We also go into how we both felt as though our upper torso (from a few inches under the boobs until the top of the belly button) really puffed out really early. I wonder if it’s because we’re both so short. (I’ve got almost an inch on her, but we’re both under 5’3”.) It’s taken a little while for my uterus to catch up, but I’m starting to feel more and more like I look less chunky and more preggo. It’s making it fun to dip into the maternity clothes.
I’m actually wearing a normal sweater today. I sort of regret it. I bought it large to be a shruggy-loose fit, which is fine in my normal body. I feel like it just makes me look very square with my new belly. My maternity sweaters/tops are predominately tailored, so they fit very well all over and show that I’m more than just a blob. (One more tick in the “Pro” column for Mat clothes over just going up a size.)
Another tick in the pro column, I finally figured out the Spawn’s movements. I’d heard people refer to it as “butterflies,” but I somehow didn’t put that together with the “butterflies in your stomach” saying.
Maybe it’s because if I can’t be at home in my pajamas, I’m most comfortable when I’m acting/in front of a large crowd. I don’t really get “butterflies” from nerves. At least, I can’t recall ever getting butterflies from nerves. Auditions and competitions always seemed to give me extra energy rather than extra panic. Occasionally I would have a localized tremor in an ankle or lip, showing that I did actually feel the intensity of the situation, but it wouldn’t ever creep into my voice, head, or stomach.
I do know “that sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach.” The trickling dread that hits me when I realize I forgot something important or didn’t do something well enough. It’s fast and over almost before it registers, but I do get it.
And now I’m getting it with Spawn. It’s slightly different, longer and more of a wave then a trickle. Still, it’s so close that I think I didn’t notice it for awhile. I assumed I was having a stupid panic about something. Last night I really relaxed in bed and tried to fully absorb the feeling…it’s a weird combination; on the one hand I feel like I should be worried about something, and on the other I’m so happy to have Spawn making himself/herself stronger swimming around in my tummy.
I know I’ve said it before, but I’m really looking forward to the next ultrasound this coming Monday. I’m starting to actually bond with the actual Spawn, rather than the idea of Spawn. I think finding out the gender will further that closeness.
My mother is ecstatic for it, I think she’s had it on her calendar for about as long as I’ve had it on mine. Obviously she wants to know, and I only wish she could come with me. Then again, if she comes, she’d probably start crying and then I’d go because I can’t seem to stop myself when we both get going.
MFH is excited for it as well, but as he’s not finding out the gender, I think for him it’s just seeing Spawn happily bobbing around. I may be wrong, but I feel like he’ll be super happy when he can feel Spawn move himself. It’s gotta be different (difficult?) for him, trying to understand my crazy ramblings about what it feels like and why it’s awesome.
You know what else is awesome? Sleeping through the night without having to get up and pee is awesome. I managed it last night for the first time since May, I think. Of course, I was staying up late reading, so maybe that isn’t as impressive as it could be otherwise. Still, I was pretty damn happy to find myself happily awake at 7 this morning do to my alarm rather than my bladder. Not to mention it just being great to be able to stay up late without feeling as though I’m half dead the next day.
You know what is less awesome?
(MAJOR TMI WARNING HERE)
Having nipples the size and colour of lilac tea saucers. They look mostly normal when “activated” if perhaps a bit darker than normal. But when they’re all spread out and vaguely purple in their “relaxed” position, I have a real problem with them. It just…you know, you see the same boobs in the mirror for thirty years…and yeah, they get bigger or whatever, but they tend to retain basic proportions. Now, suddenly, I have someone else’s boobs on my chest.
Also one of them keeps getting a little waxy spot that I’ve been informed is the advanced precursor to the start of the milk coming in. It’s very odd to scrap this off of my humongous nipple, but more so that it’s only the one side. Is it because I generally try to sleep on that side? (Since apparently sleeping on your left side is the holy grail of preggo sleeping.) No idea.
So, now that I’ve over shared, I guess I’m done for the day. Next time I’m going to post old wives’ tales regarding gender and where I fall for each one. If you know of an obscure one that I might not find through general googling, lemme know in the comments so I can add it!