You Certainly Have That...Um...Glow?

I'm not the same pregnant woman that I used to be. See, this isn't my first time at the baby-growing rodeo. It's my third and it shows. There is a huge difference between being 27-28, fit, thin, energetic and WELL-RESTED with just an adorable little baby bump and being well, what I am now. A creature that looks like they just hauled themselves out of the sewer. Being pregnant before, my first two trimesters looked amazing! I just had a cute little belly, adorable maternity clothes and my skin looked flawless. I looked better in those first trimesters than I did before I got pregnant! Looking back at those early pregnancy photos, I just looked great. People would say, "Wow, you are just looking so awesome! You wear pregnancy well." The only pictures that looked better of me were of my wedding and I credit that to the miraculous Hawaiian sun. I no longer wear pregnancy well, I make it look like shit.

Being 27, my life consisted of going to work (which included a relaxing lunch at a local cafe with my book), coming home from work, maybe going to dinner with my husband, watching a movie and then crawling into bed for 8 blissful hours of sleep. My life in no way resembles that now. I am lugging around a saggy, frumpy, tired blob of a body and chasing after two little boys all day long. I knew what I was getting myself into with this pregnancy. We wanted a third and I totally embrace the craziness that is coming, and I am thrilled for the new bundle of love that we will welcome to our family. I knew I would be tired and that the idea afternoon pregnancy naps, prenatal massages and prenatal yoga was laughable. I just didn't expect for people to look at me like a walking birth-control ad.

Let me give you an idea. In the third trimester of both of my boys (BIG boys, 9lbs and 9 and 1/2 lbs) my stomach grew to comic proportions. I looked like a caricature of a pregnant woman, and believe me I had to endure all the "Are there twins in there?" comments, as well. Due to this, my abs are as strong as wet toilet paper and couldn't hold in two grains of rice. It's beyond sad. I swear I started showing this time around before I even saw that double pink line. When people ask me how far along I am and I say 11 weeks, I get the Larry David look from Curb Your Enthusiasm like , "Lady, who you think you're kidding? Quit with the fuzzy math and fess up". Yes, I look 5 -6 months along but I'm not. By the time I really get to six months, I'm going to have to haul my belly around in a wheelbarrow to prevent it from creating sparks from dragging on ground.

My husband and I joke that we decided to have a third baby because we hate the idea of sleep. Both of our kids are not great sleepers and continue to wake up many times a night, at different times, of course. I made the decision years ago that sleep was for wussies and I wouldn't complain. Now I am. I am so damn tired that I want to crawl in the corner, suck my thumb and cry for my mommy. I am beaten down. I am used to 4 hours of sleep a night, but throw on pregnancy fatigue and I am a puddle on the floor. While volunteering at my younger son's preschool this morning, I truly contemplated closing my eyes for a teeny, tiny second. No one would notice right? I toughed it out, though. And last night was a good night too, I got to sleep from 1 am to 6:30 am! Woohoo! Score! My husband and I were so stoked that the boys slept that long that we texted each other a congratulatory message this morning. Desperate times call for pathetic attempts at looking at the bright side. I think we may have convinced ourselves, too. People don't remark on my pregnancy glow anymore, instead they say, "Wow, you sure look tired. You need a break." They're right, but please stop telling me that I look like a dried turd, I know, I have a mirror at home. I really do.

I miss my old body, immensely, but I don't miss my old life. Sure, I had plenty of "me" time and dates with my husband and luxurious vacations, but I didn't have the giggle of boys in the morning as they tickle my feet to wake me up or the kisses me on the face accompanied by "Morning Mama!" I love my kids and the chaos and happiness that goes along with it. But this pregnancy thing? Well, I'm not representing it so well anymore.