What’s happening? I am being lame with writing. My whole energy is wrapped around the end of this pregnancy. It is not something I feel like I can control – the part where my brain is not my own.
I hurt. A lot. It is what it is. It is not so terrible that I cry, it is terrible enough that I have to now greatly limit my physical activity. Walking WAY less, like hopefully not at all. I feel so bloated and blimpy and swollen that it grosses me out. It is so uncomfortable but also so … icky feeling? Like it makes me feel bad. It makes me panic that I will feel this way forever even if I know that one day it will end and then for months after that I will claw myself back to having a … core? Legs that don’t chafe? Pants that fit? Nice self image? Because pregnancy doesn’t make me feel beautiful. I do not feel strong or powerful. But I do in my normal life. And this is ok. It’s ok to not feel like pregnancy is my most beautiful powerful experience. And it’s ok for other people to feel like it is.
It’s also the end and the beginning. New human, new relationships to foster, more people in this house, while still fully taking into consideration Gabriel. My other small human. God, it’s just a lot. And the process is so long. 9 months of waiting, of planning, of being sick and feeling broken. It’s such a long time you forget how it was before. Well, not completely forget, more like I worry I will never feel that capable again. It’s like dream Lauren from a far off land. I want to get back to her. I miss her.
There is stuff going on with birth plans and possibilities with this pregnancy, but I don’t want to get into all of the WHAT IFs. I want to wait until it all actually happens and then I’ll tell that story in its entirety. I would like it to happen soon.