I have entered my second trimester relatively unscathed. I don't blog about this baby much if only because I can't imagine a catalogue of my every symptom, ache, and pain to be even remotely interesting.
I have discovered that the maternity retailers of the world would have you believe that your wardrobe is not complete without an expensive belly band. I have also discovered that my cheap tube tops are doing the exact same job and my wallet is none the lighter. (That little tidbit was for you, ManitobaFarmGirl!--I am always trying to look out for you.)
I am scared. I have still not fully come to grips with the reality of my situation. I just cannot face it. I get panicked and scared when I think about bringing this child home from the hospital. For the past few nights I have been dreaming of running away with my family. In the first one I was being chased by an unseen bad guy. In the second one I was trying to make my family at home in a strange new house that was uncomfortable and shabby and all wrong for us. I am not visibly pregnant in these dreams. I wake up exhausted and my head hurts. I am impatient and snap at Emm and Char. When people act happy and excited for this baby around me I politely smile and then change the subject.
We always thought we would have more than two kids. Char is just so busy and demanding that I wanted more time for her to grow up a bit before we got started on the next one. I also wanted to enjoy my brand-new size eight jeans a bit longer. (Yep, I am shallow and vain, but I worked hard for those jeans!!!) We always talked about having four children. Now I am thinking I will not leave the hospital until I have had my tubes tied on the way out. I have been pregnant every second year for almost 4 years. That thought boggles my mind.
I am trying very hard to figure out a way to process my situation and move on--I just don't know how.