the mental instability of pregnancy.

Nothing like waiting until the last minute, huh. It's been an interesting week and there's definitely not been a shortage of things to mention. However, now at almost ten on this Saturday evening you are left to the intricacies of my wandering mind.
First, it's incredibly difficult when you change a one year old's schedule. We just fought for the last hour and a half to get him to sleep. Finally, he succumbed, but not before he made sure we knew how ticked he was. We've been out late the last few nights and he's been falling asleep in the car before we could get home. No more of that. Poor guy. It's so hard to know how to deal with the screaming, head banging, hiccuping fits. I'm sure there's a book out there on the perfect way to handle such things, but tonight we didn't have it and had to muddle our way through. Hopefully he won't be permanently scarred as he fell into a shuddering sleep.
Second, going to a baby shower is an exciting thing when you're pregnant and a stay at home mom. Especially when they're scheduled at night by beautiful, stylish friends and feel more like a night out then a weird brunch, tasting scary things in diapers. I was invited to one this week and due to a number of disasters managed to only stay for about ten minutes, then make a very awkward exit. Thank pregnancy and a husband who ended up working late and not making it home in time to babysit. I had dressed up, put on real make up (whoa) felt very good about myself, dressed my little guy and arrived a half hour late. Hey, such is life at this stage. I fixed my plate of yummy cheese, bread and quiche and settled in to catch up with friends. Judah had found the one other child his age and was surprisingly occupied. I actually thought I'd be able to finish a thought.
The feeling of being able to relax and enjoy my evening lasted only a brief moment. A sharp, searing pain raced across my abdomen, like the kind of gas that sends you shrieking to the hospital sure you're about to die at any moment. I asked where the bathroom was, a question, I normally try to find out before I'm racing for it with my hand over my mouth. It really was too late at this point. I awkwardly made it to the restroom twice before realizing it just wasn't going to happen this night and made my excuses. I paused longingly at the door as I left, just wanting to go back inside and pretend to be a normal woman and have normal conversations, and a normal thought that would have a start and an end.
Then I took my sweet boy, placed him in the car, found a plastic bag and vomited all the way home. It's an amazing thing that you can become so used to throwing up that you can do it while driving. Not that I recommend it, I just wouldn't have made it home if I didn't. I was sick for literally three hours, I felt like I'd experienced a college hazing gone bad. (Not that any are good) If only you could simulate some of the heinous parts of pregnancy I think you'd really cut back on teen conceptions.
It really was my fault, though. I'd told my husband earlier that day this pregnancy was going so much better than my first, considering I'd only thrown up a handful of times. Famous last words.
Third, simply because a child plays with a toy, screams when he has to leave it and is consistent with this behavior every time he sees it in a store is not a reason to purchase it. Especially when it comes with a days work of assembly. We bought this adorable outdoor playhouse from Costco, certain it would be the answer to our little boy's every hope and dream. Eric worked at putting it together for the better part of today. As soon as he was finished we stood back so that Judah could finally go play, our little parent hearts beating in anticipation for what was sure to be his bliss. He walked in, broke off the faucet, threw the puppets, came out, looked at it and went and played with some rocks. My poor husband looked like he would cry. But, what can you do, besides your best. Hopefully it will get more use, if not from Judah, I'm sure his cousins will have a blast.
It's been an amazing week. The air has been clear and bright. The trees have blossomed and green leaves have forced their heads in a wave of early springtime joy. Tomorrow it's supposed to rain and I can't even feel disappointed. It's been one of those elusive glimpses that come in the middle of winter to remind you that soon summer and watermelon and lazy days at the lake will be here. Until then we need the rain. Just like in pregnancy and parenting we need the hard times. They make the good, the heart stopping moment when your child lays his head on your shoulder, runs to you, laughs like he'll never stop, all the more sweet. Only the pain of labor can bring forth the most perfect being and the trials of pregnancy that can cement your heart in love for this child, this person created through you, that nothing can seperate.
To all in this stage, either pregnant or parenting while it may feel an endurance at times, it is a joy that will always be treasured, remembered, clung to. As we all know, and hold tight to, this time is fleeting.
13 weeks tomorrow.