I’m expecting baby #2. Yes, I’m happy and excited about the pregnancy but mostly I’m tired. More tired than I ever thought possible.
Pregnancy the second time around is both easier and harder. Easier because I couldn’t care less about reading every single book on pregnancy and happy babies. I’m no longer super anal about not consuming cheeses, seafood or coffee. I don’t care how many raised eyebrows or concerned looks I get. I ordered a coffee the other day at brunch with my visibly pregnant belly and the waitress smiled at me and said,
“I drank coffee during my second pregnancy too” and it made my day. I needed that validation. My doctor told me I could consume a cup of coffee a day but still, I needed a mom who had been there before me to say it was OK. Trust me, the world is a better place when I drink coffee.
Pregnancy is harder now because I used to nap all the time the first time around. Now there is no napping. There is no rest when a restless two-year-old boy needs you. I have to take him to the park to burn off that little boy energy so he’ll sleep at night. I have to prepare meals for him, even if he barely eats two bites. I have to stop what I’m doing and play with him when he says:
“Ammu come on, lets’ play cars!”
To be honest I’ve barely had a chance to think about this baby. I have no idea what size fruit he is this week. I’m not freaking out about having all the equipment, supplies and gadgets to make my baby comfortable. I bought the entire store the first time around and I definitely didn’t need it all. There is literally no baby prep going on. I haven’t even pulled out the old baby clothes – I simply don’t have the time. I’m running after the two-year-old all the time.
I can’t keep up with one, Lord knows what I will do with two.
I’m getting tired just thinking about how crazy my life is about to get.