14 Weeks

I’ve finally made it to the second trimester! Oh boy have the past few weeks been rough. More nights than not I’ve gone to bed right after putting Buds to bed, so much nausea, exhaustion, and overall yuckiness. I thought it was rough the first go around, I was so naive. The spouse continues to be amazing picking up the load when I cannot carry it. I’m very hopeful that my energy is right around the corner. I did have a productive day on Sunday where I did 3 loads of laundry, folded and put away all of the clothes that had just been existing in baskets (they had been folded at one point, but the 2 year old loves to gleefully fling clothes that are within reach), and packed away all of clothes that no longer fit. As productive and proud of myself as I feel for this achievement the 4 more loads of laundry I have to do are quite daunting. I know it is fleeting, but I’d really love for 5 minutes to have an empty hamper.

Yesterday we received the results from the NT scan and blood test; all looks good. Two weeks away from the next heart beat appointment and 5 from the anatomy scan. That sounds far away, but time just chugs along.

Buds has been doing great. His language has really taken off the past month and now he is a little chatterbox. Most of what he has to say is about Paw Patrol and cars, but we can get a few “love yous” out of him. He starts preschool this week. I’ll have to take another day and time to recap the immense fun of touring and choosing a preschool. Needless to say it involved putting a down payment on one just to turn around and pick another one that met his needs better. No one said it was easy…or cheap.


Little Bloom

The ultrasound went well on Thursday. The spouse and I were both a little nervous about it ahead of time. It’s not something we had really discussed in advance, but shared with each other as we drove to the appointment. 8 weeks is so early it just doesn’t really feel real yet. The baby was just a little ball with a heartbeat of 161. Everything looked fine, no hematomas present this time around. The OB even gave me her blessing to work out- something I was never cleared for last time. The spouse is still apprehensive about this, but she’ll come around. The OB I saw for my first appointment had me do an early glucose test, I’m guessing because I’m heavier than I was when I became pregnant last time. I passed, which is good, and I even lost a few pounds in the past few weeks. Because I am starting out heavier, I’m really trying to watch my weight gain. That’s why the exercise clearance is such a relief.


Pregnancy #2 isn’t messing around. I have never been a consistent blogger, but from what I can discern from digging around my old posts is that my first trimester symptoms didn’t really get bad until week 9 or 10. This time around I am flat out exhausted most of the time. I go to bed at 8:30 pm at least 3 times a week. Saturday I was so wiped out and nauseous that I stayed in bed the better part of the day. Luckily I have a wonderful and understanding spouse. She happily announced she and Buds were going to have a day date and took him out to lunch then record shopping. She even found the bakery where our doula had bought these amazing thumbprint cookies for us a week after Buds was born. See what I mean? Wonderful.

Of course most of the time I’m too busy with work and chasing Buds around that I haven’t had much time to think about how I feel. It isn’t until I stop that it hits me. Thursday morning is the first ultrasound. I’m not really 8 weeks yet because I have a 34ish day cycle not a 28 day cycle, but they count from the first day of my last period so I’ll take the earlier peek at my new boo.

It’s funny a few weeks ago, I think we were in the two week wait at the time, we ran into the lesbian sonographer at my OB/GYN’s booth at pride (Baltimore has pride in July now for whatever reason). One it was weird, but cool that my OB/GYN practice was set up at pride; and two, when thanked her for all of her reassurance and support during my last pregnancy when we had all of the bleeding scares, we ended with “maybe we’ll see you again soon.” Little did we know it’d be a month later. Well at least I hope we have her. Other sonographers are so stuffy and don’t tell you anything. She is just awesome and answers your questions instead of the “you’ll have to wait and talk to the doctor,” canned response.

So, here’s hoping all is well in there.

One Hit Wonder

Welp, it worked. Holy shit!

I called this the no stress, try to get back on the TCC train cycle. I’m not the weight I want to be. I didn’t get to enjoy my last beer or latte because trying was a last minute decision. In fact I was planning on having fancy drinks at my two planned girls’ nights out tonight and Sunday to soothe my BFN soul.

I’m thrilled, excited, shocked, and apprehensive.

Welcome back to pregnancy Becs. So far I am enjoying falling asleep at 8:30 pm, smelling the kitchen trash as soon as I get in the front door, and intense boob soreness. I can’t believe symptoms are starting this soon.

The Scoop

I feel like I just threw that last post out there, so here’s a little back story. Our original plan had been to start trying for number 2 in January, but the dog almost died and after thousands in vet bills and a Christmas miracle she returned home to us from the dog ICU. So that kind of postponed things for a while. Then with the summer months came my hesitation about Zika.

Well the credit card was paid off and my zika paranoia has faded so now seems as good a time as any. The decision actually came the day after my son’s 2nd birthday when we had his 24 month appointment. As we walked into the pediatrician’s office we reminisced on how how clueless and shellshocked we were walking in there the first time two years prior with a newborn. That first week we went every single day for weight checks because he was losing. I cried in the office because I didn’t want to believe I wasn’t making any milk. How far we have come in two years. The doctor asked if we had any concerns or questions and we just casually shook our heads no. I can’t remember the last time the spouse didn’t have any questions for a doctor.  As we were wrapping things up, the spouse made a comment that maybe we would see him prior to the 3 year appointment referring to having a 2nd child. The pediatrician perked up and glanced at me.

“No, that’s not a pregnancy announcement,” I said waving my hands.

Later that night after looking at my fertility charts I realized that I very well might be ovulating in the next 5 days and convinced the spouse to just go for it. A few days later the spouse made the drive down to the cryobank to get the tank, I got my smiley face, and we were in our first two week wait in almost 3 years.

The two week wait is definitely different this time. I’m too busy and tired to obsess over symptoms and I’ve only just begun counting down the days. So I guess we’ll know in a few more days. I told the spouse tonight it just seems wrong to not have a pregnancy test in the house. I should probably buy one just in case.



“What brings you here today?” “I’m dying”

Sitting here in the urgent care waiting room first thing on a Saturday morning while the spouse is waiting to be seen, I figure I might as well give a quick update. She’s not really dying of course, but whatever it is I’ve never seen her this sick.

I am the cook and main tidier (although the house has not been tidy in years). Yet a week of the spouse being ill and I’ve grabbed take out the last 2 nights, the recycling pile is taking up half the kitchen, and although I could shove more trash in the trashcan I really shouldn’t. This just reaffirms how much I rely on her to help watch Buddy while I cook.

I’m so thankful my parents live up the street and are always willing to watch him on short notice when things like this come up. They are also our “daycare” for another 6 months. So the next parenting adventure to document will be the hunt for daycare/preschool.

Intellectually I know this is a good thing. He will thrive socially and developmentally. I knew that at two and a half we had always discussed him going to a daycare setting part-time. But humans don’t just operate in the intellectual domain, so let me tell you how I feel.

I feel nervous. Will the providers get him? Will he be treated like a problem because he is so active and physical? Will he stop hitting, pushing, and pulling the pigtails of sweet little girls? Will his confidence that is so strong right now get crushed? Can I ever trust a care provider? I still carry some vicarious trauma from my days treating child abuse victims. I’ve heard too many neglect and abuse cases sitting in meetings with the police and states attorneys. Even though I compartmentalize like a pro, these stories are imprinted in my mind and have forever changed my world view, regardless of what my left brain understands to be true.

So I’m going to make a spread sheet, break out the question sheet I got from the county when he was a newborn, and start researching some centers. I’m leaning toward Montessori school, but I’m open minded. Let this next adventure begin.