Here We Go Again

Vince and I always knew we wanted to have more than one kid and had discussed having them fairly close together. Even so, when that telltale second line showed up on the pregnancy test, we were still in shock. There was joy, of course, but also shock. Raw, numbing shock. We were going to do this again?? The sleepless nights, the poopy diapers, the marathon nursing sessions? Again??

Benjamin, on the other hand, showed no such uncertainty. We handed him the positive preggo stick, explained that he was going to be a big brother, and watched him do an ecstatic little happy dance. If Benjamin can be that jubilant about being usurped, then I'm going to join in the jubilation, too! Margaritas for all! Oh, wait... I can't drink anymore.

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Many people have asked me if this pregnancy feels any different from my last one, and the answer is YES. There are two main differences. The first one is that my belly started showing far sooner than it did when I was pregnant with Benjamin. I mean, the pregnancy test turned positive and the top button of my jeans popped off. I've heard that this is common for second pregnancies since your body gets all stretched out by the first one. It's like my belly is the rear end of an old pair of jeans that are fresh from the dryer - the denim may be nice and taut, but once you put them on, they get all saggy and droopy in the rear again. And such is the case with my belly - the second that bun was in the oven, my poor, stretched-out skin just didn't have enough elasticity left in it to hold my guts in.

The second difference is that I feel much more tired with this pregnancy than I did with my first one. Pregnancy is a tiring thing in and of itself, but it's more exhausting when you have to deal with one of these all day long:

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Not that I'm complaining. Ok, well maybe just a little. But as I learned from my last pregnancy, complaining is a pregnant woman's right. Right, Vince?

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Last week, we went in for my first trimester screening where they take blood, medical history, and a whole bunch of measurements on a high-powered ultrasound machine. Much to our surprise, the ultrasound technician was able to tell us what sex the baby was as well.

A girl! We're having a girl! She was very careful to add the disclaimer that since I was so early (11 weeks at the time), there was chance for error, but she seemed confident in her call. To be honest, we really didn't have a preference, but there is something exciting about adding a little girl to our brood. A little girl to dress up in cute outfits. A little girl who will wear pigtails and hairbows and ruffles. A little girl who might dance in a recital while wearing a tutu. A little girl whom Benjamin will look after and protect from bullies at school. A little girl who will enjoy giggling on the phone with her friends into the wee hours. A little girl who will make her parents proud by telling them she's going to the library to study late at night when she's really going to secretly rendezvouz with her 27-year-old boyfriend.

Oh, sh*t.