Last week I probably got as close to a shamelessly loving pregnancy as I could be. Obviously, I am very pregnant but not random. My skin and my hair are calm and I finally found “light!” thanks. (And it only took six months!) I do not sleep very well but I do not enjoy the excruciating back pain and sciatica that plagued me in the past. And I have not vomited in dang for about a month, and my food and smell are not as strong and destructive as it has been for so long.
I was strong enough to take my son to the stadium AND to Target… all the same day! I went out for a meal with my friends and finally went to the hairdresser. I love the most glamorous expectant women’s outfits I enjoy most recently, for the second trimester — maybe — I will never wear this again. I look good, I feel good … so can I just quit now and move on?
This is how many women describe their entire second trimester, and I try not to feel too deceived because the pregnancy seems to have lasted so long for the first trimester (nausea, headache, urination, irregular look. -Like-pregnant-like-me -I felt) followed by what could be a very short period of time before the disturbing explosion of the third trimester, the time of great pregnancy and beating and swelling and constant rubbing and work prophecies from guests. (The last time I could not even go to the grocery store without a Russian grandmother praying for me against my will, as I look like a cook and late before I become).
When I started posting and changing the mindset of this section, I thought it would be fun to continue the comparison between my pregnancies, but I don’t think I was ready to give up too much. Granted, I knew better than I could imagine that any two pregnancies would be the same (I learned this lesson early on with my first pregnancy when I tried the treatment for SOME PEOPLE who suffer from morning sickness and side effects), but I think I still think. that MY PREGNANCY can be unknowingly similar.
My first pregnancy: 13 weeks or more of a chronic, incurable disease throughout the day. 10 pounds lost and followed by a heavy pound-per-week book at a weight of about 33 pounds. The exact date was predicted up to an hour. Chocolate pudding, hot salsa and Indian cuisine. The hair stopped growing miraculously for the entire period of the pregnancy. There was a complete nervous breakdown; man still dreams of the dangers of “the whole nest.”
This time: Five strong months of morning sickness, which can be controlled by regular diet and snacks, unless I get a legitimate diet that just won’t add up. There is no weight loss, and there is no real weight we can say – six or seven pounds, on top. Migraines. The controversial and unforgettable ultrasound of The Momentous Evening (or the morning! Evening fun! And everyone’s opinion!) Means that there is no real set date.
A crippled baby is pushing various organs. He craved black olives, caffeine and cheese. Very disgusting with many animals, especially chickens and fish, but they can often eat a hot dog or four. The hair is happy. Many worries have been less, except for some strange recurring dreams; more concerned with a man renovating dining room chairs than collecting a bed.
Speaking of unfinished mothers, it’s time for this week’s registry series! Don’t you just feel happy?
PICTURES OF NURSERY
(I think you know how to buy a bed and other places to change diapers. It doesn’t have to be a “changing table” or anything, but something smooth and long enough for you to change. and they do not need a separate table, but I secretly think that they forget or deliberately forget about issues of back and poop.