from the belly of a

I’ve had a variety of pregnancy-induced thoughts lately. So much so that on my work “facebook” page the About Me section says, “yes, it does always seem like I’m pregnant.” The belly has busted out of hiding (though I can still wear my big jeans, but it’s a rotation of just a few pair). I drag my feet longer and longer each time before digging into the maternity tubs. And I forget that though the shock has worn off for me, some people are just hearing about the future addition, so it’s getting tough to keep a straight face as they react to the news.

I realized just last night that my belly button has spent more time out than in over the course of the last 2.5 years. The second pregnancy it popped by the halfway point. This time around I’m not sure it even waited until the first appointment with the midwife. I’m going to make my future millions by creating and marketing Belly Button Tape to help obscure this tale-tell sign. I’ll make it with cute decorations so that I can look at that instead of the innards of my belly-b while I take a bath.

This week marked the first appearance of the achy-aches in the back and hips that were present the past 2 rounds. I’ve been doing some yoga lately and I’m wondering if the extra movement is what triggers the flair ups (which is probably a sure sign I’m doing something wrong). Perhaps I SHOULD just park it on the leather chair with a jar of pickles.

This time, more than in the past, I battle middle-of-the-night insomnia. Last night I wrote a sermon (though no one has actually asked me to preach; however it was a very good sermon. I was funny and engaging and had a solid spiritual point). I’ve contemplated the hiring process for my current client at work. I considered the practices of men in the process of leaving their wives. You know, the norm. I have not yet awoken my husband to discuss the governmental treatment of Japanese-American citizens circa-WWII. His reaction last time served as a warning that perhaps this was not acceptable behavior.

And the JUNK food (which would trigger the addition of the previously mentioned yoga). Sour gummies, fruit snacks (that I pretend are sour gummies to be good to my teeth), anything tangy sweet – it makes my mouth water. I included the dried fruit snacks on the list this evening when husband had to make a run for dogfood, but he returned with nothing. So I devoured half a bag of sour green grapes. I could go for more, I’m not going to lie. If anyone out there lives in the vicinity of a Target and wants to ship me 874 packages of the Dried Fruit Twists by Archer Farms (strawberry mango, please), you’d probably get  public praise on a well-hidden blog. I was silly enough to think 2 bags would last me a while. In this case, “a while” meant 3 days.

I also have a new theory. With each added child, time goes much faster after they arrive, but much slower before they are born. I can’t believe I’m not even to the half way point! Somebody had to have added 5 weeks to my first trimester.

So that’s life at the moment. How fortunate am I that these are the biggest things weighing on my mind at the current moment? Yes, I’ll take a sec and be grateful for that.