I’ve been having an easy pregnancy so far. While I did experience nausea in the first trimester, it was vomit-free, snack-controlled, and definitely nothing to get myself an Oscar nod. I have even been able to enjoy the “honeymoon” trimester that the second trimester is supposed to be. I have been tired, true–but nothing a 30-minute nap at lunch hasn’t resolved. I don’t even have cravings so sticking to a nutrient-diverse diet has been fairly easy, eaten exactly per my schedule of snacks.
I was thinking to myself on Friday as my count down officially clicked over to 24 weeks, “pregnancy isn’t as difficult as I always thought it would be.”
It was as though I mentally jinxed my own pregnancy.
I wake up on Saturday with my left leg aching in every possible joint… what did I do? My husband massaged my leg and it improved. I stretched and kicked around… both of my calf muscles decide to seize up into a charley horse…ouch.
Ok, eventually pregnancy does have to get harder. Obviously. Maybe I should increase my magnesium intake? I haven’t done my yoga videos since I packed them up two weeks ago… I should go find those.
I crawl out of bed awkwardly–everything felt extra tight, the skin, the internal space of my organs and then I get a little kick in the belly button. Thanks, son. That was less than comfortable.
I was feeling really crampy, in the “gosh I hope coffee resolves this” sort of way (to put it politely) so we prepare breakfast and consider our unpacking tasks for the day. I guzzle my coffee and breakfast in the hopes to expedite my relief… nothin’
A shirt that I SWORE fit me four days ago, now was stretched to its max over my stomach. I must go shopping. I head to Target and buy shirts that both fit me and that my belly doesn’t somehow force an obscene amount of cleavage to show. I hunt around the clearance racks and find one pair of glorious maternity shorts, 7$… I hug them and the lady next to me gives me a concerned look. I don’t even care, I have won the pregnant-in-CA lottery. I then find and impulse buy what is supposed to be an XL dress….but is hence forth going to be my pajamas. This day is back on track.
I get home, and the heat of walking in an AC’d store has apparently made my feet swell… I struggle to get my sandles off. What is this alien body I’ve inhabited overnight??? No time… I have pregnancy shorts to put on.
My husband informs me our friends are coming over to our disaster zone of a not-yet-unpacked house. I just want a nap, but we go and clean up instead. Our friends stay and help my husband with tasks that I have been annexed from (such as lifting ceiling fans) and we later go to dinner and I just cannot eat even half of my plate, I am full to the point of nausea. We say ciao, and go home to head to the bliss that is bed.
I wake up at 3AM. Starving. I wander downstairs and make myself miso soup and a hard boiled egg. I muse over what a stereotypical pregnant lady I am right now.
I wander back upstairs and fall asleep. I repeat Saturday morning again with the leg cramps, and the uh… the other cramps still exist too. To which coffee offers no relief, again.
Our friends come over again, but I cannot stay awake, I excuse myself and take a glorious 3 hour nap–entirely uncaring of anyone. Sorry all. I feel energized and back to the way things were on Friday–they way I wanted them to stay!
I wake up Monday morning (today) and–woah….belly button? What’s the deal??? I show my husband and he goes, “Heyyy! Stretchin'”
I apply cocoa butter… get ready for work and tell myself it’ll all be okay…