"Oh Just You Wait"

There is nothing I find less supportive than the phrase, "Oh just you wait." Pregnancy, the time in your life where you're questioning everything and confident about little, seems to be when I've heard this bogus support line the most.
Here's how most conversations go.
Seemingly interested supportive friend, family member or just nosey passerby, "Wow, you're pretty far along, how much longer do you have?"
Seems innocent right? Don't drop your guard yet, regardless of your answer, there's only one line this type of person fires back.
Me, "Three more months, I'm due in August."
Seemingly supportive person who's about to flip roles, "Oh just you wait. You're going to have to deal with the hot weather, and your feet are going to swell, and don't forget you will never be able to get comfortable."
And bam, the supportive train has just derailed and you're faced with one of those people whose only purpose is to make you feel like you could never be prepared enough for what lies ahead. There's no getting this train back on the track, you're bewildered and the ensuing conversation is generally a nod or smile while you try to figure out what just happened. If you're like me than your defenses are in overdrive and you're refuting any possibility that there could be challenges ahead. I've found myself telling people I love the heat and humidity more often than a newborn needs their diaper changed.
This conversation, in various forms, happens so frequently lately. Whoever thought, "How was your Mother's Day" would be a trap for the just you waits? I'm now on edge talking to the "just you waits" and usually prepared to give them a verbal wallop back. Sure people chock it up to the hormones, but what if you were constantly put on the spot and told, whatever you're going through right now will be so much worse in a few months. Whatever happiness you feel about your exciting new adventure, curb it, because it's not all rainbows, sunshine and butterflies.
I think it's the dubious nature of the question that bothers me so much. Here I am innocently thinking someone cares what I'm going through only to be slammed with a comment that makes me feel foolish for feeling one way or another. The comment even has a way of making the most neutral response feel as though it was very wrong to feel a certain way.
My suggestion to all those who ask someone how they are doing, or feeling, to do it genuinely. You shouldn't have a hidden agenda to launch into how things are tough for you or to let off some of your negative steam. Acknowledge their response as something that person owns and you can't possibly be the person to judge how they are feeling or will be feeling. I think the sentiment of walking a mile in their shoes fits nicely here because unless you're in my exact same predicament, coupled with all my experiences to date, you couldn't possibly know what lies ahead of me, and you couldn't possibly tell me to wait for something to get more challenging.

The Joy of Mother's Day

As children, my sister and I would always devise a Mother’s Day to top all Mother’s Days for my single mom. We’d make her breakfast complete with eggs, toast, pancakes, home fries and a huge serving of well-intended promises to not bicker all day. We’d scrape our pennies together and get her something she really wanted, but would be too selfless to purchase for herself. And she always responded by telling us we were the best gifts she ever received.

Fast-forward several years and both my sister and I have our own gifts that help us understand the true joy behind Mother’s Day. On Mother’s Day morning I found myself peering at my sleeping child, her body sprawled across the mattress, her hair tossed and tangled in a way that only happens after a good night sleep, her back rising and falling with her rhythmic deep breaths. With great anticipation I just watched waiting for her deep blue eyes to open and realize morning was here. I found such beauty in the serenity of that moment. Her eyes sparkled as she focused on my face realizing it was her momma. She scurried to her feet, tangled in blankets, spitting her pacifier out, and stretched out her arms whispering momma.

I scooped her up (which has become quite the challenge with my big belly in the way) and squeezed her. She nestled her head onto my shoulder and patted my back gently with her tiny hands. Another tranquil moment words cannot accurately describe. Almost simultaneously, we sighed. I let go all the worry and frustration that had been weighing me down and felt my heart soar as she clung to me. “Thank you for making me a mommy, Izzy.” I told her.

Someday there will be homemade breakfasts in bed, flowers picked from the yard, and construction paper cards with crayon scribbles all over. But all I will ever need on Mother’s Day is a squeeze from my babies. I’m truly blessed to have been given such a wonderful gift; a heart full of joy.

Love this feeling

I can barely contain my excitement. I normally don't go all emotional lunatic about pregnancy stuff, but I can't help it. This little guy is rolling, twisting, kicking and punching and while it doesn't always tickle, the feeling is truly amazing. It's such a wonderful feeling to know he's growing and his activity tells me that he's progressing just fine. There have plenty of times where my over-controlling nature has caused me to want to purchase an ultrasound scanner for my home so that I can peek at him whenever I worry. But I'm not a millionaire so I depend on his activity as a sign that he's doing ok in there.

In addition to alleviating worry, it's also pretty cool to have a reminder that I'm not alone. There are days where stress from work and home are overwhelming. These are the days where I just want a squeeze from Izzy, or Joe's comforting arms wrapped around me. Usually Izzy is at daycare, and Joe is at work for those days. Just when I start to crumble I'll feel a little jab at my rib cage that reminds me I'm not on my own. God's little blessing is lets me know that I have a purpose other than worrying and stressing about all the tasks that lie ahead. There's more important work to be done, like raising this precious little gift.

Knowing that the baby is doing well and the reminder that there's an amazing gift coming in the next few months makes every aggravating pregnancy symptom worth it. Getting a swift kick to the bladder, or an embarassing belly-shaking jab in front of my work audience puts a smile on my face and makes my day. I'm really enjoying this special time.

SPD - my least favorite pregnancy symptom

The nice thing about going through pregnancy a second time is not every pain is scary. Some of them I already know what they are. The most recent symptom to pop up is Symphisis Pubis Dysfunction (SPD). It happened with my first pregnancy but didn't last long. (Some women deal with it for the duration of their pregnancy once it crops up.)

This go around I'm pretty sure it only happened because of a dog walk that turned exceptionally challenging. Willow, a.k.a. 90 lbs of love, really wanted to see the Swissy down the street. We crossed paths on the same side of the road and this doesn't normally happen. Rather than avoid the challenge, I greeted my neighbors and their 100 lbs dog head on. Their dog was afraid of Willow and didn't want to greet her, but Willow was way too excited. I planted my feet firmly and put her in a sit. But we started going through this sequence of her jumping up to try and sniff the other dog and me dragging her back to a sit. (Izzy was safely to the side in her stroller with the wheels locked.) I wanted them to meet because Willow always barks at this dog and it was important to me that they just get a cordial greeting over with. The woman was patient and kind and once the greeting was over we went along our merry ways. 

Things weren't so merry by the time I got home. I was feeling significant strain in my pelvis and some contractions. After getting Izzy fed and off to bed I promptly laid down. The next morning I was in the office for  6am and that's when the real pain set in. I felt like there was a body builder attached to each leg, tugging on them in different directions with brute force trying to get the wish from a wishbone. So much pain. I shuffled through the day, a granny with a walker had a faster pace, and 3 days later I'm still feeling it. Ouch. 

There are a few things I've learned though. 1) Getting off my feet (not sitting, straight out plank in my bed) helps the pain. 2)  I need to listen to my body more. I probably wouldn't be so hurt if I wasn't trying to be super mom and do daily walks with Willow and Izzy. AND, when the pain started, I should have taken that as a cue to get more rest. Instead I went into the office every day this week and dealt with the pain. I should have been at home in bed with my computer. There are no awards for crazy pregnant ladies who stress out their bodies. 3)  Despite the immense pain, I still have so many blessings to count. This is a super uncomfortable symptom, but it'll help me give birth to my beautiful baby in just a few months. How could I be upset and complain when something so amazing is happy?