Pregnancy the second time around is not always the same as the first. The nausea was worse this time, and the pain in my hips and back is about a million times worse. But I’ve already complained about all that, so I will spare you any further lamenting.
But it certainly hasn’t been all bad this time. The flutters and kicks started sooner, which has been exciting. The doctor says it’s because I already know what they feel like so I recognized them sooner. It’s hard to admit and put into words, but I’ve had a harder time connecting emotionally with this baby than I did with Quinn. So I’m grateful for every one of Baby Dragon’s flutters and kicks, for every time I feel him roll around. But more about that later… maybe….
The second biggest difference – pun intended – is that the baby bump showed up much sooner this time around and quickly became difficult to hide. Here’s a photo of me five months pregnant for Quinn, two and a half years ago.
And here’s photo of me today, five months preggo for Baby Dragon.
WTH??!! Am I carrying Baby Dragon’s evil twin in my behind?? So. Not. Cool.
As if the front-to-back expansion weren’t enough, the left-to-right growth is worse this time. Yep, that’s something else that people don’t tell pregnant women. Your hips begin expanding to make room for the baby and to get your body ready for birth, and your rib cage gets wider because all those internal organs that are getting pushed out of the way by your rapidly expanding uterus need somewhere to go.
I would draw you a diagram or create a nifty little animated GIF to give you a visual, but
I don’t know how I really don’t think
anyone wants to see that.
I try not to read too much into people’s reactions when I tell them I’m five months along, and I try not to say "only five months." Because you know the first thing people think when they learn how far along a woman is in her pregnancy is either “Wow! Already?” if they think she’s on the small side, or “Wow! That’s all?” if they think she resembles the side of a barn.
My favorite is when people try to convince me they can tell that I’m having a boy (after I tell them it’s a boy, of course) because I’m carrying the baby high or low, which is different depending on who I talk to. But that’s not the funny part. The funny part is that on me, there actually is no high or low. I’m five-feet-one-inch tall! There is only OUT! I’m carrying this baby everywhere. Even in my ass, apparently. And possibly in my chin. (For the love of heaven, is that a waddle??!!)
Anyway, I’m rocking this bump as best I can with my “small, but mighty” frame. Like I said, at least I’m still funny.
Linking up with the awesome Shell, from Things I Can't Say.