Princesses or Trucks

It’s so strange how this pregnancy feels so different. My first trimester was so not fun. I woke up sick every morning and threw up a lot — a lot more than with my first child. Every smell made me want to barf: garbage, wet pull-ups, my godson’s feet, but even “goodish” smells — air freshener, whatever my husband was cooking, the flowers he brought home — ugh. It was like my body didn’t know what was up. The first thing I did every morning was down some saltines and club soda. And sometimes even that came back up.

My gag reflex became super active (get your head out of the gutter). I can’t brush my teeth without nearly vomiting. And if I see anyone with anything in their mouth — gag. My daughter likes to chew on toys, her PJs, her finger — and it really grosses me out. She put a string of ribbon in her mouth, and oh god, take that out, that’s so gross! I was watching a football game when they showed a player chewing on the end of his mouth guard. Gag! I had to look away — whew, that was close.

Plus, my appetite was virtually nonexistent. Anyone else get annoyed when it’s time to eat again? I would feel stomach pain, which would remind me, oh, I haven’t eaten in … 6 hours. Oops. With my first child, I ate ALL THE FOOD all the time. This time, food is meh. Just doesn’t taste that great. I lost 4 pounds the first month, which was a little concerning. I assumed it was a lack of wine in my diet that helped with that as well. (Oh, wine, I do miss you.) My doctor wasn’t concerned though. Since I started this round overweight (still holding about 20 pounds that I never lost after #1), she said, “Let’s aim for 25 pounds.” I said, “That would put me over 200 pounds. How about we aim for 20?” I’m not worrying about it, really. I eat when I’m hungry and make myself eat when I’m not and it’s time. I don’t have any crazy cravings (not eating ice like the first time) so binges are few and reasonable amounts. I’m just happy to be finally keeping food down!

I feel about 10 years older, of course. My ligaments, joints, bones … they’re all like, “You fucking serious?!” It also doesn’t help that I’m crazy out of shape. I’m not good at making myself exercise, even though I love it and feel amazing afterward. I’ve done a few prenatal yoga routines, but they’re so boring. It’s hard to feel motivated. I finally found one that felt like actual exercise — lots of squats and leg lifts — and I could hardly walk the next day. Lesson learned.

So, logically, when you have a different pregnancy, you think you must be having the opposite sex child, right? Asking fellow moms told me it’s not true. I couldn’t help but hope for another girl. I mean, we have all the stuff already, and my husband is a terrific father to our little princess, and I looked forward to pulling all those adorable clothes out of the garage again. And oh, how she wants a sister!

I’d love a little boy too, because a mini DH would be adorable. But I was leaning toward girl when anyone asked… So imagine my surprise when during the amnio, the ultrasound tech said, “See this?” And I, seeing what I thought I saw the first time, said, “Girl!” And both my husband and the technician said, “No.” Oh… sorry kid. That’s a penis? Oh… OK. Oh, my God, I have a penis inside me! “We got our Ace!” I said to DH. (I keep teasing him that I want to name him Ace. He thinks it’s horrible, so of course I bring it up every chance I get.)

Do you see it? I see a face! Sorry Ace.


A boy! My husband will get his son, and my daughter will get a little brother. We will dress him in bow ties and teach him how to be respectful to women. I’m not going to lie, I gave away a large portion of little C’s baby clothes, and I cried. But I’ll find cute boy things and cry over those too, I’m sure.

When we told #1 about having a boy, she said, “But I already have a little brother — I have Coco!” That would be her little friend she’s in childcare with every day. The one she also claims she’s going to marry. She’s not super excited about a brother, but I know she’s going to love helping us with the baby and eventually bossing him around. I love it when she says, “Two boys and two girls. Daddy can take care of the baby, and you can take care of me!” I can only imagine how her little world is about to be flipped on its head. Please, please don’t become a nightmare child in reaction to a new baby, mmmmkay?

I read an article about what raising a boy is like: Dirt and energy and pee and touching his penis and bouncing off walls and boogers and trucks and trains and oh yeah… lots of fun. I’m not ready for most of that, I’ll admit. But is any mother? Here’s hoping he’s a sweet, happy, smart, kind little boy who’ll love his mother to pieces.

The results of his amnio came on my birthday: Baby boy is normal and healthy. Whew. Best present ever! A month after that was the anatomy ultrasound: All parts and pieces accounted for and normal. Yay!


Flexible lil bugger


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