Yesterday

Somedays I am more pregnant than others. Yesterday I was very pregnant.

I spent the morning cleaning the apartment. I moved the rocking chair to mop behind it and pulled something, I think. Either a ligament or a muscle, but it was in my abdomen and I'd just rather have nothing bad happen to my belly right now. So I spent the rest of the day as a putz. Unable to walk right, super tired from the cleaning and worried. I was suppose to continue on with my Halloween extravaganza and make Watch-Out-Martha-Stewart Halloween desserts. But my body said "no, read instead."

I looked up info and called Nurse Mom and the conclusions I come to are that I just hurt myself, not Sprout. But, I still worry. I've become a Super Star Worrier since entering motherhood and pregnancy itself just encourages that. Something new to worry about. Something hidden and less obvious. I can't gauge if Sprout is healthy by how much he jumps on the couch like I can with Andrew.

I felt like a terrible mother. Not only did I move the rocking chair, I made the ultimate of lame dinners and felt so guilty about it. I know is ridiculous to feel guilty about that, I even knew it was ridiculous at the time, but I felt bad all the same. What kind of mother feeds her son quesadillas made with refried beans from a can? Now I'm thinking, mothers that need a break reach for those kinds of options. Yay for Mothers that Take Breaks!

The pregnant day ended with Dave and I on the couch, eating ice cream (Sprout seems to prefer Klondike bars, which was a childhood favorite of mine. Andrew was more into Chunky Monkey) and watching a documentary on the Boston Marathon. As the runners crossed the finish line, I was choking back sobs. Crying, yes, but trying not be loud and noisy about it. I thought this was a perfectly normal response. I mean, marathons are very emotional. Then I looked at Dave. He wasn't crying. I asked him why not and he said, "Well, I'm not pregnant." I spent the rest of the movie laughing and crying at the same time. Dave was just laughing.

Sometimes I forget that it can be hard work to grow a whole other person. I figure that person will take care of itself for now and I'll get to it this Spring when there are hungry cries and dirty diapers. I am very glad that Sprout speaks up to tell me to stop moving furniture and to rest more and feed him/her Klondike bars.

Today I feel much better and very festive and I think Sprout and I have made up.

But watch out for fuzzy orange monsters tonight as you are rampaged with trick-or-treaters. The monster himself is quite nice, but his pregnant mother might turn up the pregnancy a bit, demand Klondike bars and start crying.

Best to have a few extra Klondikes on hand, just in case.