My pants stopped fitting suddenly this morning. Apparently when you have a baby growing exponentially in your abdomen, one day your favorite pants fit and the next they do not. Shoot.
Over the past two weeks, Mr. A and I have done an exceptionally spectacular job of getting on the pregnancy train (A side from the occasional panic attack). I’ve figured out what foods make me gag (bananas) and what foods make me do happy dances (yogurt and caprese salad and birthday cake). We’ve stopped making coffee-for-two in the morning, as I generally opt for a nice can of ginger ale while I blow dry my hair. We’ve made plans and lists and dreams.
We’re not resisting my exhaustion. We spend evenings snuggled in bed watching whatever seems good (Three Men and a Baby, Archer, Arrested Development). My typically full social calender will have to wait until the 2nd trimester for dinner dates and friend time to come back. We go to bed super early. Last week, most nights I fell asleep reading and Mr. A had to come remove the glasses from my face and make sure my feet were under a blanket. We’re rolling with it.
Sometimes, we have panicked moments but for the most part I feel incredibly calm. I breath and snuggle the man I love and grow a baby; it seems so easy. I want to remember this part.
When my belly gets too big to be comfortable. When the baby comes, along with sleepless nights and hours spent preoccupied with every inch of this new face. When baby grows to be a toddler of elbows and knees in my back as we all share a bed to fight off the monsters in the closet. I want to remember the calm of right now. The calm of feeling like my body and heart have been preparing for this all along. The calm of loving someone and being loved back with such overwhelming certainty. The calm of a life starting. I want to remember this part.