You know, I just don't like to fail. I like to be right and I like to do what I do well. I think being pregnant for a Type A can't be an easy progress. Pregnancy doesn't fall under the lines of perfection except for maybe the baby that comes out in the end. Although I think we all know not everyone's baby comes out as perfection either; Sinfeild comedy sketch entered here.
Sarah was so wonderful and bought me a heart monitor so I could listen to Baby Y all night long if I wanted to and now that I am officiallly 15 weeks I think I will try it again. Either the little lemon sized bean was just too small to hear or a great swimmer but I couldn't get its heart beat when I first tried. But according to the directions between the 14th and 16th week I should be able to detect a bit of a whoosha-whoosha (or as the directions describe it, a galloping horse) at roughly 55 beats per minute.
Now that I have fallen (yes, fallen, because passing from one pregnancy hormone to the other doesn't quite melodiously flow) into the 2nd Trimester I feel better. Much better. I'm still tired but think that, that aquates a lot to my commute. I think as I get older it just gets harder and I like to watch movies when I get home from work which often means a bed time of no earlier then 10:00pm. 10 is just too late not to feel tired the next day. But besides that, I feel more like myself and happily exclaimed to Walter last night that I was feeling more like I was a part of the Pregnancy Club and Too-Be-Mommy Club again. A feeling (I coined with Padon) of feeling connected with every single pregnant woman on the planet. Hug on pooching tummy, tender breasted, crying jag, constipated, soul sisters! Walter smiled, relieved I think, to hear me feeling more upbeat. It's hard watching someone you love feel bad about themselves and knowing there isn't much you can offer other than another boiled artichoke and cup of melted butter with lemon juice with a Butterfinger Blizzard on the side.
I have read back over the previous post a few times trying to gage and decide whether I was having a manic pitty moment but still feel it's true. That panic attach was bad. But we have now cleaned out Baby Y's room and taken a couple car loads of things to Good Will and that has made me feel closer and more romanticised about the days to come. It helps too that Padon is starting to get excited about the new baby. He still doesn't quite get the whole magnitude of what's going on but did tell our friends that there was a baby in me. Official quotation: "Baby in der" and "Baby Mama". That's pretty darn close. He is super exicted about the now empty room waiting to be Rug Doctor'd and painted but I'm pretty positive it's just because it is a room that he has never been in before and has no toys to trip over in it. Who doesn't love finding new and special places.
Walter, of course, and as any to-be-new-again-Father would, looks forward to the new baby with happiness and apprehension. He periodically offers reassuring pats to the baby which fills me with a gushy love of them both. Not to mention Baby Y has already had it's first conversation with Darth Walter - something along the line of "hello baby this is your Father..." with all low and not normal voice range talking. Funny everytime, especially since he isn't trying to sound like Darth Vader.
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