When I was little at and going to church there was a song we used to sing often.
It goes, I looked out the window and what did I see? Popcorn popping on the apricot tree.
Well, I'm not exactly an apricot tree but I definatly feel like I have an Orville Redenbacher factory in my belly.
This baby is officially up and running. It is a wiggly thing.
I love it.
I love it.
All of a sudden the nausea, fatigue, and dare I say it weight gain is worth it.
I love this feeling. With my other pregnancies people would ask if I enjoyed being pregnant.
With Jack I loved it. Your first pregnancy is so easy. I say that with very loosely. I know that it can stink ie: nausea but you don't usually have another child to chase and feed and change their diaper.
(No your husband doesn't count)
You can rest whenever you want, and that makes a huge difference.
Even the second pregnancy, you can at least pass the buck to your husband every once in a while. But (and someone should have told me) with your third pregnancy, there is no rest for the weary.
I haven't particularly enjoyed being pregnant so much this time.
It's one on one all the time. Matt usually has one kiddo and I have the other. And of course I have been more nausea's and tired with this little jumping bean than with Jack and Lucy combined.
But it's real. He/she is as big as an iPhone now and making it know.
No data plan needed, there is a baby in this stomach and I'm starving so let's celebrate by eating a over flowing plate of spaghetti with Kraft bottled parmesan cheese, and everything but the kitchen sink.
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I am obsessed with this stuff, ask Matt. It is ridiculous.
