The Second Trimester

Here I am at 24 weeks looking back over the past three months and simply sighing with relief. Around 18 weeks I finally started getting over the nausea and things started to take on a whole new feel. I didn't realize how clouded my views were simply because I felt so miserably ill.

The second trimester was much better than the first I admit. Although, I would like to take this opportunity to inform you that you shouldn't believe everything you read or hear. I did not stop feeling sick as soon as I completed my third month. I think I finally got past it as I neared my fifth! It's true that everyone experiences pregnancy differently so don't take all those text books too much to heart.

There are too many things written to the extreme that only serve to make an expectant mother even more tense and nervous than she already is. For the longest time I felt ashamed of myself for doubting my own abilities to be a good mother and for having such strong feelings of apprehension.

It was very hard for me to accept my child as being a real person because I didn't even feel him moving until I was around 21 weeks. His movements combined with my Level II sonogram confirmed that he is in fact a precious little ball of love just waiting to enter into my life. I'm still terrified about how I'll make a decent life for this child. I know that for the first time in my life I have to learn what it means to truly put someone else's needs before my own and I'm not deluding myself about the magnitude of that particular task.

No matter how giving you might think you are, it can't compare to being a parent. I'm finally starting to understand what everyone has been trying to tell me. I've just been a bit slow at learning it though. I can imagine the heartache, self-sacrifice, exhaustion, moments of anguish and worry and times of resentment and thanklessness but beyond that I can already feel the sheer joy I will experience when my son looks up at me and calls me "momma" for the very first time.

My fourth month was pretty much like my first three. I was mostly filled with fear and did nothing but complain about the pending doom and gloom that would be my new life. I don't know what happened to change all that except that I began to feel better very slowly.

I had my second ultrasound when I was around 16 weeks. I saw my child thrashing around in my belly very contentedly. He was all arms and legs looking as though he was in a hurry to get somewhere but going nowhere fast. Such determination, obviously, MY child! That's what ran through my head as I lay there. Just that he would be like me.. It was at that moment during my second sonogram (at 16 weeks) that I realized this was to be a miniature version of me but in the male form (Although it was not confirmed until my level II which was done at 22 weeks, I always knew he was a boy), I began to laugh. I couldn't help myself so I just kept right on giggling. I gave my poor doctor a heck of a time as he tried to take a good look at the baby.

My next visit to the doctor was much of the same. No sonogram but I was to hear the heartbeat for the first time. The instant the sound of that fast little pounding heart reached my ears I was hysterical with laughter. I don't know what was wrong with me but I guess you could say despite my mounting fears there was a certain amount of excitement.

As the weeks passed the sickness dissipated. I was waking Vic less and less during the night. I was still up several times each night but thankfully it was for, shall we say other reasons more related to a certain child that likes to sleep on my bladder.

Surprisingly, I was still wearing my own clothes until I was 22 weeks. As of my last check-up I had only gained 7 pounds and it's all baby. I find it amazing how the rest of me seemed to get thinner as the baby took what it needed. Nature is a complicated thing isn't it? There was even a week where I ate two gallons of ice cream topped off with Hershey's syrup and I had only gained one pound the entire month. How often does that happen???

I'm not stupid enough to think I'll stay this way but I did find it highly enjoyable. I'm certain that with the third trimester I will be faced with bloating and sudden weight gain. My little Max will need to get substantially bigger before making his debut in the world.

Max. Yes, he is a he and he is a Max. From the moment I knew I was going to have a baby there were never any doubts in my mind. He was to be a boy. The name Maxwell Alexander popped into my head and decided to stay there for some odd reason. It was as if the name chose him. I don't think I had much say in it. I wonder about that sometimes. I never could feel content with a girl's name. I tried and tried to pick one but nothing ever felt right. I used to wonder about picking a name for a baby when I was younger. I sometimes thought I would wait for the baby to be born and then let the name sort of fall upon the baby. I assumed I would need to see the baby's face to pick a suitable name. Max, there could be no other name for him but Max.

It was just something that seemed to be predestined. Perhaps his entire life is predestined, who can know for sure about such things. If he's anything like his mother he'll question everything in life, taking nothing at face value. He'll always need to know what makes things tick.

I don't usually fall for these types of things but oddly enough I had always known this child would be a boy even before he was conceived. Years ago there had been a fortune teller at a carnival who informed me I would have a son. She said he would have large dark eyes like mine and that he would be wise beyond his years but with a deeply kind and loving heart. She told me that he was predestined. That he had a specific purpose in the world. She told me he would come later in life than I wanted him to but he would not come until the time was right. Then she went on to tell me the usual nonsense about how I would come into a substantial amount of money so I just laughed it off at the time but there were certain things she told me that I did not forget about.

I married young and at the time I had wished to have my first child by the age of 24. That was not going to happen since we were years away from being responsible enough. Later on we finally decided we were ready. We tried diligently for a year and a half but we could not conceive. It was heartbreaking at the time but eventually we found out there were medical reasons preventing the conception. When we finally corrected the medical issues we found ourselves dealing with other issues, making it the wrong time.

When the day came that I did become pregnant it was the furthest thing from our minds. It happened just when God intended it to. Nothing we did in the past could make it happen when we thought we wanted it to and nothing would have prevented it when it was meant to happen, want it or not. Life is a mysterious thing.

Besides that fortune teller there was another one, a better one who I met up with years later. She predicted all sorts of things in my life - everyone of which has so far come true. She even told me what month my baby would be born and which year! Guess when I'm due? Just when she told me I would be over two years ago! Now in her case there was a lot more credibility. She told me I would travel to so many specific places which she named and I later visited. I never even dreamed I would travel but a few months later I accepted a new position which required I travel nearly half the time.

If they weren't enough there was the Italian tradition of swinging the cross over one's left hand to determine their future offspring. I always came out with one boy! No matter who did it to me, no matter how many times, it was always the same thing. Coincidence? Possibly but believing in the unknown forces of the universe is much more fun and challenging to my mind. Who wants to always explain everything magical away with scientific fact? Max probably will. I think that's where we will be different. My son will probably be the deep thinking analytical type who gives little credence to fantasy and romance.

Sometimes I hope he lacks my romantic, emotional coloring. It's been a terrible handicap in life I think. To want and wish for the unreal, it can be very dissatisfying at times. No, I wish that he will have curiosity and depth but maintain an acceptance of reality. I know he will be kindhearted like his father. I've always known that but I also pray that he is sensible and well grounded. I will wish and pray that he somehow obtains the best of both worlds and becomes the balanced and happy medium consisting of all our better traits combined.

Only time will tell what my Maxwell will be like. I already know that I love him no matter who and what he turns out to be though. It's involuntary already. He's to be mine. I know that sounds selfish but it's also honest. Max will be someone whom I get to lavish all my love and affection on without fear of any kind of rejection. Well, not for a long while anyway. Perhaps not until he starts school and tells me, "No mom, please don't kiss me good-bye in front of the other boys." How heart wrenching but necessary.

How twisted of me to wish so much time away. I'm already picturing Max's first attempt to cut the apron strings and he's not even arrived yet. How typically tragic of me.

As I sit here feeling all the flutterings and pokes and jabs of my child I still wonder if I can be a good mother? I know I'll be adequate but will I be good enough at it to be Max's mother? We're not just talking about any child now, we're talking about Max, MY Max! He deserves so much more than I can ever give him doesn't he? Don't they all? I assume all mothers experience feelings like that and it's something you can not rationally explain to anyone who's not stood in your shoes before.

You have to be in love with your baby to understand. I didn't fall in love with Max straight off. I resented him, I tolerated him and eventually I was afraid of him. It took me several months to learn to love him. He was a stranger to me and I approached this new relationship with extreme caution. Now, although I know in my heart that there will be times that hurt me, there will be times of worry and times of complete and utter joy, I am no longer so guarded as I once was.

I have opened my heart to this tiny person. I can even name the exact moment I fell in love with my child. It was during my level II sonogram. It was the usual, here's the head, the feet, the body, etc….and here are a few snapshots. It wasn't until the doctor came in and we started talking about what I was seeing. The pictures didn't really do all that much for me at first. To be honest, he looked like a little alien in the pictures. He appeared to have two huge black eyes and a strange looking face. Later, when the doctor was looking at him he got a clear shot at Max's face. I actually saw his tiny little face. His eyes were closed, he appeared to be sleeping. His little fist was tucked beneath his chin. He looked like his daddy. I can honestly say that I KNOW what my son looks like. His face is burned into my mind with such detail that I would recognize him anywhere.

How strange is that? To KNOW without question what your unborn child looks like? That was when I fell in love with him and stopped feeling afraid and resistant to the situation. He became so real to me, he became Max.

Last night I had a minor panic attack. I didn't know that I would make this confession but here goes. I realized that I'm getting bigger. My belly is I mean. That means that Max is getting bigger! Then, it dawned on me that I have to get him out somehow. I guess it's one of those things I avoided thinking about. You know how every so often if occurs to you that you will die someday. It's kind of an icky thought so you push it from your mind thinking, "I'll worry about that when I have to!" Well, that's how I've been viewing my delivery. I can't imagine the pain! I've done painful things out of love before but this will be the topper.

So, there you have it. A lot can change in three months. I am no longer filled with doom and gloom but look forward to holding my baby now. It was definitely a combination of feeling him kick and seeing his face in the level II. After all that Max became an actual person. I talk to him now. Just general talk. I wonder what he'll be like and if I'm be capable of raising him right.

I still have all the same fears about my job, where Max will spend his days and with who and how we'll pay for it all. I guess I just need to keep the faith and keep reminding myself that the good Lord will provide. He always comes through somehow so I doubt he'll let me down now.

I must also confess that it is becoming more and more difficult to use my laptop on the train. I'm having some trouble reaching the keys these days. I think I'm doing okay so far as for my weight, I have my check up tonight so I'll find out shortly won't I? Sometimes it feels like Max is getting too big to keep in there much longer. I often lie in bed awake at night swearing I can feel my skin stretching. It's similar to that feeling after you've over eaten on Thanksgiving night - that "Oh my God, I think I'm going to bust!" feeling. I know I won't but it sure feels like I will!

I also have some strange moments in the morning. When I first get out of bed it feels like I'm trying to hold a bowling ball between my legs. Max feels really heavy and I wonder if he'll really stay in there as long as he's supposed to. Call me the paranoid expectant mother but it's the truth. I've never done this before so I have to wonder if I'm normal or not. I keep wondering if other women have felt like I do or am I the only loon in the world?

The baby nightmares have started as well. The ones where you're just walking along minding your own business when suddenly, the baby decides to pop out of your belly. You don't actually give birth but he sort of pops out none the less. Leave it to me. I am a bit odd. Maybe it stems from all those jokes I made in the beginning about Max being a little alien inside me.

I still say he's a little alien in a sense - he's definitely a little parasite but now I add that he is MY alien and MY parasite! I don't know when or how it happened but somewhere along the way I fell in love with the little guy. He managed to wiggle his way into my heart past all my fears, all my doubts and become someone uniquely special.

I'm not saying I enjoy being pregnant. I doubt I'll ever say that. The first five months were rather hellish but I think I'm finally past the negativity. I'll never understand women who claim to love being pregnant. I can't imagine loving being twice my normal size (although eating all the ice cream and chocolate and not caring is fun), feeling sick and/or tired for months on end (I have nothing positive to say about that other than it is rather nice having my husband take care of me), and all the worry that comes along with every little cramp (Hey, what can I say, I'm a worrier!).

There have been countless downsides to actually being pregnant that I won't bore you with. I hate the way I look and can't imagine that anyone honestly thinks I'm beautiful or glowing. I avoid walking past the mirror as much as possible. I think people are insane if you want to know the truth. No, I will never say I loved being pregnant but I will say that when Max isn't beating the hell out of my ovaries, I do enjoy feeling him kick. I think it's fun most of the time. We even play games with each other sometimes. He kicks, I give a little push back and he kicks me again.

I sometimes just lie there, rubbing my belly and talking to him. That's when we have our quality time. I tell him all about my day, my secret thoughts and fears and feelings. He just listens patiently and every so often gives me a nudge. I know he can't really hear me but it's somehow comforting. I even sing to him when we're all alone and he seems to like it so I'll probably sing to him after he's born (provided no one else is around to hear me!)

So, there you have it. The joys of the second trimester. I still have about 14 weeks until Max arrives but I know that will go really fast. We still have so much to do before he arrives that it seems overwhelming most days. We have tons of shopping to do, his room to finish, the bills to pay, Christmas around the corner, the bathroom to finish, and countless other projects around the house so I know it will go all too fast.

I'm still hoping I'll be a good mother but I think now I know I'll do the best I can and no one could ask more of me than that. I only hope that my best is good enough for my Max. I'm looking forward to a time when I can look back on these pages and laugh telling myself that I worried for nothing. I'm looking forward to a time when I can look at my son overwhelmed with pride at how he turned out and say to myself, "see Karen, you're best was good enough!"

I know that day is a good 20 years off and there will be many bumps along the way but I like to fantasize about finally taking that huge sigh of relief knowing my boy will be okay. I suppose a parent always worries for their child but there comes a time when you can breathe a little easier I think. Okay, I hope then!

The next time I write will most likely be just before or just after Max decides to grace our world with his presence. I hope everyone wishes me luck. I'm a big baby and hate the thought of all that pain during labor. I asked my doctor during my first visit how he felt about epidorals and I confirm his willingness to give me one upon each subsequent visit. Sorry Max but mommy needs those drugs!

I may continue these entries after Max is born so everyone can laugh at me as I struggle to learn about motherhood - hey, let's face it, with my lack of experience, it's bound to be amusing. Watch for Max updates on my website - eventually, I will get them posted.

Until next time, I wish you all happiness, good health and good fortune.

God bless!