Niiiiine weeks.

What? So while I feel horrifically impatient I do have to admit that this round of pregnancy really is flying by compared to last time. I periodically have the chance to forget that I am in fact pregnant because there is too much other shit going on in my life for it to be constantly at the forefront in my brain. But then there are smells and I remember. It would be nice to feel not sick or like actually eating non-carbohydrate food or something, though. Soon enough I guess.

Gut feeling this time around is girl. Not as strong a feeling as I had with Tycho, and I don't believe in gut feelings anyway, but it would be convenient because we've agreed on a girl name and then stopped discussing names altogether. But I've definitely started thinking about the baby as she and her hypothetical name, so there.

Kyle has somehow convinced himself we are having twins, which I wish he had never said aloud because the very idea makes me break out into a cold sweat. He doesn't want them either, but a friend teased him that he would inevitably have twin daughters and then apparently I spooked him by pointing out how ginormous I am (but I mean really!), so now he is slightly freaking out. And for some reason we asked Tycho if he wanted one or two babies this morning and he said two babies because of course. I don't know. Things are pretty good though, despite the twin paranoia and the nausea and the zits and constipation and my delightful night-owl first born suddenly waking up at 7am every day for the last week, when I desperately need to catch up on my sleep. Yes, that. Mostly good? Mostly pretty good.

When everything goes as planned

Kyle left on Sunday morning for a business trip and he won't be home until tomorrow night. And that, frankly, is a terrifying thing. Being pregnant, single momming, working full time. I think I can manage two out of three at any given time, but alas, I didn't much of a choice.

However, Tycho has been a complete ANGEL this week, and I am not the sort to call my kid an angel, well, ever, because that's weird. But really. He has been sweet and adorable and easy and perfect and SIIIIIIGH and because I am all pregnant and hormonal I cry about how amazing he is.

I think I'm going to have him sleep in bed with me tonight because I just love him too much to keep him in another room.

MY BABY IS A GENIUS AND CAN IDENTIFY FOSSILS OKAY

Taste

The problem with being pregnant (well, one of them) is that everything tastes wrong. Except for chocolate. Chocolate still tastes like chocolate and chocolate tastes delicious, so you just eat a lot of chocolate to the exclusion of everything else because it's the only thing you can trust.

Yep I am super healthy.

2.8

This is what eight weeks pregnant looks like the second time around:

What kind of fuckery is this?

Obligatory updates.

I feel neglectful of the blog but I still don't have much to say other than how much I feel like barfing all the time. All I really want to do is complain about stupid minor pregnant problems on Facebook but I can't because we haven't officially announced anything and I'm hormonal and grumpy all the time and I am kind of taking it out on Kyle.

I also haven't posted about Tycho in ages either. He is... kind of amazing. His speech therapist thinks he will be at age appropriate when we do his transition evaluation next month. He is starting to use like, actual legitimate sentences here and there. We bought him some books about babies. Nothing "big brother" specific quite yet, but just general info on how babies grow and he very much likes the "Egg Book" and he can say egg and sperm and uterus and I showed him the pictures we have from his birth and he said "Ouch! Mama sad! Mama push!" Basically he is adorable.

Today is eight weeks. I look roughly as pregnant as I did at about 20 weeks with Tycho, especially in the evening. Pictures later.

And the weeks march on.

So remember how I was like, oh I won't take any more belly pictures until things start happening? And then how three days later I couldn't button my pants?

My girlfriends told me it happens faster the second time around, but I still wasn't prepared. Here's five & six weeks. I'm fully in maternity pants 100% of the time and I don't even care.

In other superficial nonsense, I discovered that Kyle accidentally donated 95% of my maternity stuff from when I was pregnant with Tycho when I tried to dig it out of storage in the garage. I may have cried. Because hormones. And also fashion. And because I meticulously saved EVERYTHING so it wouldn't be so damned hard to feel good about how I look this time around.

Alas, I was left with two pairs of jeans, one top, and one dress, and the top is falling apart because I wore it so much. So I have been shopping up a storm with little care for price tags because I need to feel comfortable and cute and I'm not interested on putting a price on that. Blah. I can't believe I spend so much energy on maternity clothes but I do, oh well.

In other news, being pregnant is bullshit. Barf barf barf barf barf god do I hate barfing and my boobs still hurt and Tycho is always climbing on me and using my uterus as a jumping off point and did I mention barf? Wake me up when we get to the good part.