I am midway through my 19th week of pregnancy. I’m a terrible pregnant mom. But the real deal is that I’ve just been exhausted. It’s a lot more draining being pregnant at 38 than it was at 23. Yeesh!
Thankfully Dave, Autumn, & Sophia have really stepped up pitching in on the household chores. I’m so impressed with their love and initiative, but at the same time feel like a cartoon whale of a woman that should be curled up on the sofa with a box of bon-bons and rag curlers in my hair.
“I warsh mahself with a raaag on a stick”.
The first trimester was a little off and on with the nausea. There was one time when I woke up on the couch and did not remember falling asleep there. I woke up laying on my side as though someone had beamed me back down and blacked out the probe exam experience.
One night, just wanting to do something pregnant, I stopped in Toys R Us and bought a little pack of newborn onesies. The realization that washed over Dave’s face as he palmed one, then laid it over his shoulder was stunning. You could see his mind flash forward to just how tiny this little guy was going to be.
He’s been great so far and hasn’t missed but 1 appointment. —And that’s only because I told him he didn’t need to go. He’s going go to be such a great dad.
The remaining broad strokes are that we did our 13 week genetic screening and in conjunction with the 2nd trimester triple screen, we’re pretty well in the clear, health-wise. It turns out that I’m a cystic fibrosis carrier, but he is not. I’m type O negative, he’s A positive, and we’ve only 1/710 odds for Downs Syndrome.
The sad fact remains that the poor kid will still be a dork. It can’t be avoided. Both parents are carriers.