Yep, there's a bun in the oven.
Second pregnancies are different from first one, in ways innumerable. First off, my first pregnancy was totally textbook-normal. But I can't seem to get it through my head that this one is also "normal" but is different, so I wonder... Anyway, the main difference between the two is that, while I was well overweight for the first pregnancy, I started off this one about 13 pounds heavier... I was told to not gain more than 15 pounds the first round, and my OB-GYN laughably told me THIS time to not gain more than 10 POUNDS... That can be accomplished in one sitting, given good bacon and if you know where to find the right buttercakes...
So, at my 2nd OB-GYN appointment, whilst standing on the scary scale, I closed my eyes, then flashed them open, purely out of morbid curiotsity, to find that their scale weighed me almost 3 pounds heavier than at home. Bracing myself for the nurse's scathing remark (which never comes, she's way too nice for that), she informs me that I'm DOWN a pound or two. WTF?!??!! Sure enough, according to their charts, I was down a pound. So for the first time in my life, my doctor, hell, any doctor, enters the room and practically high-fives me for a "fantastic job on the weight gain!" Thus began my current obsession. Which probably should have started 10 months before I got pregnant again.
There are things the books don't tell you. Sure, sure they say "you may be feeling more emotional than usual." I'm sorry, "more emotional?" This means I'm tearing up while watching the end of Independence Day, and finding really, really poignant moments in episodes of Tori and Dean: Home Sweet Hollywood. Again, I say, WTF?!?!?!! I personally cannot handle too many cathartic moments in one day, or I feel like I'm starting to lose my mind. My mom's best friend recently passed away, and while damn-near having an anxiety attack regarding her family's impending loss, I had to keep reminding myself, "This is not your family, this is not your mother, this is not about you." I tend to internalize WAAAAAAAAAY too much, and nothing good comes from it.
Among other things, I can't stand the feel of my own leg hair on my legs while lying in bed at nighttime. My feet hurt on the outer edges and my heels throb. My face itches, and I have a strong desire to scratch my hair, although it's not like my scalp actually itches... It's beyond me. Smells still bother me, things still taste funny. A lot of what I experienced before, somethings more intense than the others.
One thing that hasn't changed: my boobs are still enormous. They reached near epic, circus-proportions while I was nursing my son, but now they're back to being mere triple-Ds, as usual. Yay me.
So with that, the bun is in the oven. Elvis has not left the building. And I need to shave my legs.
Second pregnancies are different from first one, in ways innumerable. First off, my first pregnancy was totally textbook-normal. But I can't seem to get it through my head that this one is also "normal" but is different, so I wonder... Anyway, the main difference between the two is that, while I was well overweight for the first pregnancy, I started off this one about 13 pounds heavier... I was told to not gain more than 15 pounds the first round, and my OB-GYN laughably told me THIS time to not gain more than 10 POUNDS... That can be accomplished in one sitting, given good bacon and if you know where to find the right buttercakes...
So, at my 2nd OB-GYN appointment, whilst standing on the scary scale, I closed my eyes, then flashed them open, purely out of morbid curiotsity, to find that their scale weighed me almost 3 pounds heavier than at home. Bracing myself for the nurse's scathing remark (which never comes, she's way too nice for that), she informs me that I'm DOWN a pound or two. WTF?!??!! Sure enough, according to their charts, I was down a pound. So for the first time in my life, my doctor, hell, any doctor, enters the room and practically high-fives me for a "fantastic job on the weight gain!" Thus began my current obsession. Which probably should have started 10 months before I got pregnant again.
There are things the books don't tell you. Sure, sure they say "you may be feeling more emotional than usual." I'm sorry, "more emotional?" This means I'm tearing up while watching the end of Independence Day, and finding really, really poignant moments in episodes of Tori and Dean: Home Sweet Hollywood. Again, I say, WTF?!?!?!! I personally cannot handle too many cathartic moments in one day, or I feel like I'm starting to lose my mind. My mom's best friend recently passed away, and while damn-near having an anxiety attack regarding her family's impending loss, I had to keep reminding myself, "This is not your family, this is not your mother, this is not about you." I tend to internalize WAAAAAAAAAY too much, and nothing good comes from it.
Among other things, I can't stand the feel of my own leg hair on my legs while lying in bed at nighttime. My feet hurt on the outer edges and my heels throb. My face itches, and I have a strong desire to scratch my hair, although it's not like my scalp actually itches... It's beyond me. Smells still bother me, things still taste funny. A lot of what I experienced before, somethings more intense than the others.
One thing that hasn't changed: my boobs are still enormous. They reached near epic, circus-proportions while I was nursing my son, but now they're back to being mere triple-Ds, as usual. Yay me.
So with that, the bun is in the oven. Elvis has not left the building. And I need to shave my legs.
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