Just like that we’re half way there. Twenty weeks of growing this sweet pea has come and gone and I can’t believe how quickly it’s happened.
Being pregnant with Bam was potentially the longest time in my life. I was champing at the bit to get to each week milestone. Keen to know what a baby the size of a sweet potato would look and feel like in and on my body. Desperate to feel him kick and even more desperate to know if the morning sickness would pass. Sadly it didn’t although feeling him kick was as incredible as I imagined and then some.
Carrying this little snow pea I have barely had a chance to think about the fact that I am with child, often even forgetting until the overwhelming urge to throw up arises in me. Chasing after our already earth side babe is all consuming and something I want to treasure because soon it will be forever different and this time will never be again. At the same time I want to savour every day of me carrying life inside me, we know this is more than likely our last hurrah in the baby making department and I sit in awe of what my body has done already and is now doing again. Considering I don’t particularly do pregnancy “well” I can’t believe I’m coping the way I am. Given, I am nowhere near as sick with this babe as I was with our little Baba ganoush but still, vomiting daily and multiple times at that is rough on anyone. Isaac thinks it’s the best thing he’s ever seen, watching on in amazement and often clapping and squeeling and I appreciate the encouragement if I’m honest. I’m just not one of those people that glows and that’s ok.
I’m finding myself desperate to press pause and to take each day slowly. The baby will kick and I will feel it when the time is right. I didn’t hold on to hope that the throwing up would pass (which true to form it hasn’t) so there has been no need to rush to the sixteento twenty week milestone of change. Whether it’s a blessing or a curse I look heavily pregnant (70% sausage rolls, 30% baby) and have since about sixteen weeks and I’m nervous as the growth doesn’t appear to be slowing down.
I thought I was all organised with clothes and then Mylo and I had the realisation that we had a baby in the dead of winter first time around and this time around we are having a baby in the peak of summer. I figure given the family that we are it’ll simply involve a lot of nudity (and with that a lot of judgement and mum shaming) but whatever, that’s how we roll. I can’t wait to see Isaac’s perfectly sculpted pot belly dancing across the beach in summer in all its glory as he slaps it with his pudgy, little, dimpled hands.
I’m looking forward to having the confidence that only comes with being a mum the second time round. I cannot wait to breastfeed again as arduous and taxing as it will be at times. I’m barely able to contain my excitement at seeing my two children growing up together so close in age. The thought of seeing Mylo dive deeper into his role as a Dad and Husband makes my heart smile. He’s such a natural and has done nothing but excel in this role since day dot. I think he’s an incredible builder and carpenter but that talent has nothing on what fatherhood has brought out in him.
My ankles haven’t started swelling despite the fact that I’ve been flying around the country for work and on my feet for incredibly long days; yay!!! My hair has thickened up, yet turned incredibly dry and attempted to gain some curl back which was swiftly removed when I was pregnant with Isaac. If I’m honest I look like a wildling that breeched the wall but hey this too shall pass. My skin has turned to absolute rubbish and looks like I’m halfway through a serious sunburn peel based on the pigmentation differences on my face. Skin tags are appearing everywhere and aren’t thrilling me but, such is life. I feel as dry as the Sahara and need to drink so much water (then pee five minutes later) and bathe myself in a combo of Bio and Coconut Oil twice daily to try and maintain any level of hydration. I’m emotional and have a tolerance level of zero, so watch out. My boobs are sore and swollen and my nipples need a postcode. Secretly, I love that I can see all of this unfolding as much as it is irritating, because it gently reminds me that the hormones are raging and consequently the babe is thriving; something we didn’t’ get to experience with our very first pregnancy.
I can’t wait to be a mum or two although I have no idea how I’m going to actually execute that. I know many women have gone before me and I just need to remind myself that if they can survive so can I. So for now here we are, halfway through the most miraculous thing the human body can do and we are fortunate to be experiencing it twice.
Here’s to the next 20 weeks and a safe , healthy, happy, cherub (with a great latch) at the end of it!!!