I am at the 20 week mark of my pregnancy....halfway. Do I get an award? Actually, Wesley Slappey tried to buy me half a cake. He ended up getting a box of mini ice-cream cones instead.
I am loving this stage of pregnancy. I want it to go nice and slow, so I can savor this special time with Taylor.
My belly has reached the limit. I am now in maternity clothes, and there's no stopping me now. It felt a little weird making the switch to maternity. I kept trying to make myself believe that I didn't need them yet. Boy, was I wrong.
These things are wonderful! My belly feels so much better now that it's got a little more freedom. And maternity pants are pretty cool. They look normal, but have that special flap that just goes right over your belly. (It would be even cooler if they sold skinny, maternity jeans).
I am hooked on maternity clothes now. Luckily, the only thing I've needed to purchase was a few pairs of pants to get me through. God has kindly provided the rest through magnificent people. Here are the many ways God has provided. He deserves the credit:
a wonderful friend, Shea, lent me a ton of maternity shirts and dresses
my coworkers gave me a gift card to Old Navy, which I spent on dresses and tanks
Jonathan's coworker, Jaci, loaned me lots of clothes (she's mucho tiny, so I only fit into a few items, but the thought was greatly appreciated, especially since she also gave me 4 boxes of baby girl clothes)
Rachel Jones and Abby Falls decided on a whim to lavish me with maternity clothes they purchased today from Gap. What generosity and kindness! So thankful!
And lastly, due to the style of clothes right now, many of the things I already own will last me through most of the pregnancy.
Praise God! What a blessing!
Maternity clothes, you've won me over. I am your biggest fan.
Alright, Taylor, get it all out now. This is your chance.
Kick me...kick me...as hard as you want.
Because this is the only time you'll be able to kick me without consequences. No time-outs. No talking to's. No stern looks. No spankings. Absolutely no consequences. Just acceptance.
Kick me...I beg you. When you kick me, my heart leaps. When you kick me, happiness fills me up. When you kick me, I am closer to you. So, please, please, kick me all you want. You can move around and squirm around and be crazy in my tummy. I'll even be happy if you kick me in the ribs.
Why, you might ask, am I okay with you 'beating up' on mommy? Because I absolutely love you! It's still going to be a few more months before I get to see you in person, so I want to cherish every touch I get from you, even if it's in the form of a kick.
The first time you kicked me was magical. It was January 5th. I was taking attendance of the first grade class I teach, when I felt a thump in my belly. I quickly put my hand to my tummy and felt another thump. It's like you were saying, "Hey, mommy, I'm right here!" I'm going to imagine you were telling me you loved me. Well, I love you too, sweetheart. Very much.
Daddy was jealous. He wanted to feel you too. You didn't disappoint. A few days later, you let Daddy feel you too. You moved and wiggled so much that Daddy could feel you when he put his hand on my tummy. That meant a lot to him. He loves you very much too. You're going to love him so much. He is going to be the best daddy in the whole world, I promise you that.
This doctor's visit proved to be one of the most exciting ones...January 15th, the day we find out if our baby Taylor was a boy or a girl. The appointment was nice and early. We got there right on time, after I got off on the wrong floor yet again. Why can't I remember the floor? Jonathan settled in to read a magazine, but I foiled those plans by making him run to look for a caffeinated drink (I was told to drink one to make sure the baby was moving enough to 'flash' us).
Before he could make it to a machine, they called us back. Giddy with excitement, we were sent straight back to the magical sonogram room. Jonathan was asked to wait outside, which I thought rather mean of them. So, I got to be the lucky one who sat there as the lady rubbed that thing all over my belly - without saying a word. She didn't speak to me. I haven't seen this baby in a very long time, and she's looking at 'it' and not making any comments. I'm sitting there thinking, "Is everything okay? Why isn't she speaking? Can she see anything? Is the baby asleep? Are we going to be able to tell what 'it' is? Is my baby healthy? Something must be wrong."
I couldn't take it anymore, so I finally got up the nerve to ask a question. I carefully planned a single question that would give me multiple answers. "Is the baby awake and moving?" Her response, "Ya, I'm actually chasing 'it' around."
Whew...baby alright...check...baby awake...check...baby active...check...nothing to worry about...check.
After about 5 whole minutes of analyzing my baby, she FINALLY lets Jonathan in. They turn on the magical screen and we watch in anticipation. Then we see the baby...moving like crazy. The nurse begins to move all around and show us different aspects of our baby; the brain, heart, stomach, arms, legs, hands, face, eyes, ribs, backbone, and finally the thing we were waiting for....baby bottom.
We sat and watched as the nurse shook my belly to try and get the baby to 'spread it's legs'. After many attempts, finally we could see private parts. Jonathan knew before I did. I actually thought I was looking at boy parts, shows ya how much I know. But then the nurse froze the screen and I could tell it was a GIRL! Apparently, girls make an equal sign. I cannot express the joy and excitement and bundle of emotions I felt when I saw our child...our baby girl! She was so beautiful! So perfect! Such a miracle! What a magical moment! Tears streaming down my face, I sat next to my wonderful husband and praised God for this precious child!
As a pregnant lady, waking up constantly to go the restroom is a normal occurrence. So when I woke up around 5 to potty, I didn't expect anything out of the ordinary. I mean, this is your pretty run-of-the-mill stuff.
Rolled from my right side onto my back...just like I do every morning. This time I was met with a new feeling...pain. My stomach felt pulled. "It's okay", I told myself. "I guess my belly's just a little heavier and that's why it hurt. I rolled over too fast."
So, I sit there a minute. Then I feel my belly. The left side of my belly is soft and flat; that's normal. But when I move my hand to the right side, I am met by an enormous bulge! I cup my hand over the bulge to feel it, and it's like super hard. What?! I have this large lump in the right side of my belly!
Finally, my common sense kicks in and I realize that the baby has 'slid' down to the right side of my belly while I slept on that side. Finally, after a couple of minutes, the baby slides back into normal position. Wow! That was my first 'feeling' of the baby from the outside. I've felt my lower stomach where it's getting harder, but this was the small baby all concentrated in one spot very close to the surface. Such a cool feeling! I had no idea that they can slide to different spots in your tummy. I know they roll and kick and stretch, but moving to one little location... crazy.
Let me preface this post by saying, "I am so thrilled to be pregnant!" Yes, I felt the need for quotation marks, just to emphasize my delight. I am in my 17th week, and I know it's only going to get more exciting. Aside from the morning (all day) sickness, I have experienced my first area of pregnancy that I've had to... adjust to.
Let me go back to the beginning.
When I was a baby, my mom's mom, Nanny, would constantly remark and nag my mother about how 'scrawny' and 'sickly' I was looking. She always worried that I wasn't getting enough to eat, but my mom was doing everything normally, I was just a scrawny baby.
A couple of years into toddlerhood, and it's the same thing. I'm still scrawny; even though most children have that 'baby fat' phase they go through. My body must have missed that life development stage, because I never received my 'baby fat'.
Never.
Not in elementary school...people still called me 'scrawny', which might I add, is not a very flattering or nice term for my body type.
Not in middle school...I had these skinny little arms and legs and no body fat. You can imagine how people feared me in basketball...not...I had to make up for my lack of meat in aggressiveness.
Not in high school...I reached my full height in 9th grade, 5'9", which is pretty tall for a girl. I was this tall, skinny, red-headed, freckleface girl. (People had kindly resorted to calling me skinny instead of scrawny.)
I grew up hearing remarks constantly about how I needed to eat more, how I was too thin, how I was just skinny. I never thought much about the remarks; I was pretty accustomed to them. I mean, of course I had all sorts of other things that I was insecure about. (I'll tell ya about those later.) Having a 'belly' was never a thing I had to deal with. I was always active in sports all throughout school, so I guess that helped. I mostly contribute it to my genes. Thank you fast metabolism.
Even in college, I really didn't put on the pounds. I did gain a little, but not enough to take me off the thin category.
That brings us to now...pregnant.
I have to admit that I've had a difficult time adjusting to people drawing attention to my waste and saying comments like "Oh, you're getting bigger." "I can see your belly." "Yep, it's poking out there." "Oh, look, your pants are getting tight." Now, of course, there is nothing wrong with those comments. Those are normal comments.
As soon as someone makes a comment about my belly, I find myself straightening up, sucking my belly in what I can, and tightening my "booty". The first time I did that I quickly realized how vain that is, but I'm still having a hard time not doing it. I mean, I'm pregnant, for crying out loud. I'm supposed to have a belly. So, if you've made comments about my belly, please continue to do so. And if you see me straighten up and try and suck in, you'll know why.
Maybe it's just because I'm not big enough to be obvious yet. I don't know. I'm pretty sure once it's poking out there huge, I'll be okay with it. But right now, it feels so weird to have a little 'belly pooch'. But I am embracing every last moment of this baby being inside of me.
So, if you're a girl, touch my growing belly all ya want (my youth group girls have already gotten me used to that). Just don't call me fat. :-)
