Night and Day (Difference Between First and Second Child)

Anyone that read my blog posts from 2 years ago after I had my first son knows how difficult of an experience that was for me and my husband. In the back of my mind, I have always kind of wondered if I was just a pansy or if our experience truly was that challenging. Now that I have had a second baby, I can testify that I am no pansy. I love my first child with all my heart, but to say that the first few months of his life were hard would be an understatement.

Those first few months were some of the most trying days of our lives. I had a membrane sweep around 11 AM that immediately put my body into labor. I labored for about 12 hours before I even got to the hospital- and even then it’s only because my water broke.  I did not realize I was in active labor because I wasn’t experiencing any pain, or even any kind of distinct contractions. I was having some sharp, sudden pains around my stomach but I assumed they were normal stretching pains of pregnancy. I didn’t even think to time them.  My mother-in-law tried to convince me that I was in labor all day, but I simply didn’t believe it. I wasn’t in pain, and I wasn’t having any contractions that I could tell. I didn’t want to go to the hospital just to get sent home. My husband went to work that night, against my mother-in-law’s advice. Sure enough, my water broke at 10:30 PM and we rushed to the hospital.

I then labored for another 18 hours at the hospital before finally having a c-section. I hadn’t slept in 36 hours at that point and I hadn’t eaten anything in 24 hours. It was a very traumatic experience for my body. I was in so much pain when we left the hospital 2 days later. The nurse thought I was being ridiculous because I told her that I was in too much pain to walk out and that I needed a wheelchair. She thought it was even more ridiculous that I was in too much pain to carry the carseat and baby in my lap on the way out. I am not one to become easily debilitated by pain. As a matter of fact, I try to fight through pain, I refuse medication, and I take pride in my high tolerance level for pain. But my recovery from my first c-section was absolutely horrid. I was completely crippled by my pain, yet I still had a precious newborn baby boy to take care of. And that is just the tip of the iceberg!

I mentioned that the first few months of my first child’s life were very difficult, but I will only compare the first few days of each experience with my two children since my newest son isn’t even quite 5 days old.

The experience with my second child was completely different from the beginning. I was shocked when I found out I was pregnant, just like with my first, but the first trimester was so much different. I had a lot of nausea with my first, but I only actually threw up twice during my whole pregnancy. With my second, I threw up every day for a few weeks, then every other day for a few weeks, then once or twice a week, until it finally tapered off. The nausea returned for a while toward the end of my pregnancy, but I didn’t actually throw up anymore. The exhaustion I experienced in my first trimester with my second son was ridiculous. I could get a full night of sleep and spend the next day feeling like I hadn’t slept in days. It was so bad that I became a little depressed for a while just from sheer exhaustion and feeling sick all the time. The second trimester was fine. I felt great. The third trimester was long and difficult. It started with an emergency surgery to fix a tubal torsion. That was a very scary experience. I had nerve pain in my upper right leg that was awful every time I would stand up or move the wrong way. I had a lot of exhaustion.

And then labor started. I started feeling super impatient and irritable for a couple of weeks before labor with this pregnancy. I nested like crazy and had everything ready early. I think that somehow, my body knew something I didn’t and it was telling me to get ready. I  worked for weeks freezing things like meals, treats, and chopped fruits and veggies. I cleaned the house. I got hospital bags ready for me, my husband, and the baby. I had all the baby clothes washed. I had almost finished packing my oldest son’s overnight bag for when he stayed with his grandma while we would be in the hospital. I was READY!

By 38 weeks, the baby was so low that it was causing me quite a bit of pain. I felt like the baby was literally going to fall out of me at any moment. I had to pee all the time and it was super uncomfortable. I started experiencing contractions just before 38 weeks, too. They were irregular and didn’t hurt at all. I almost couldn’t tell if it was contractions or the baby moving or gas. But looking back, it’s obvious now that they were contractions. They got stronger and stronger and more frequent every day. I called labor and delivery at the hospital, but was told that when I go into active labor, I will be in pain and to wait until then. The nurse recommended a warm bath and to lay down. That night, my husband went to work and I got my son down for the night. I was still experiencing contractions, but no pain, so I figured I was just losing my mind. I went to bed around 10 and that’s when the contractions were about 10 minutes apart and becoming very, very strong. But- still no pain. So I just stayed in bed and tried to fall asleep. Finally, a contraction came that literally knocked my breath out of my chest. I fell to the floor and I couldn’t breathe. It felt like the baby was SO low, as it had for many days now. I tried going to the bathroom and that’s when another contraction came, but this time, it was in my lower back. I have never felt back pain so awful. I could not move at all. It was excruciating. That is when it clicked for me- I was in labor. My back was hurting so bad and things seemed to be progressing quickly. At home, the contractions were every 10 minutes. Within an hour, they were every 7 minutes. By the time I got to the hospital, they were every 5 minutes. And they were getting progressively stronger, too. By the time I was in the hospital getting ready to receive the IV, I was finally starting to feel some pain with each contraction. But it was minimal pain- mostly discomfort.

My doctor was luckily on call and even already at the hospital at the time, so he decided to go ahead and get me prepped for surgery. My husband was still 2 hours away and my labor was progressing quickly, so we decided to proceed without him. I was progressing so quickly that I actually felt optimistic about possibly having a VBAC, but the doctor still discouraged attempting one and felt that although I was progressing at the moment, labor probably would not result in birth. I’m not sure what indicated such a prediction for him. The nurse that checked me for dilation had a very hard time getting to my cervix and seemed very unsure of her determination, but claimed that I was about 2 cm dilated. Who actually knows how far dilated I really was? Personally, I feel like I was probably dilated more than that, and even if not, I felt like my body was on the ball and that I would be dilating more and more with time. To be honest, part of me wonders if I could have had a successful VBAC. The baby only weighed 7 pounds and 7 ounces and my body seemed to know exactly what it was doing this time, but whatever. I can’t wonder and dwell on the what-ifs of something that is in the past now. So anyway, my husband missed the birth by maybe half an hour in the end.

The baby was born and I was whisked off to my new room. He swallowed a little bit of amniotic fluid during birth, but I was told that it wasn’t a lot and the baby should be able to work it out on his own. Other than that, the surgery and birth went beautifully. Wayne latched wonderfully from the beginning. The nurse even told us that in all the years she had been doing this, she had never seen a newborn latch so readily and perfectly. It was as though he had been breastfeeding for months. After the experience with my first son, I was shocked and super thrilled about it. My first son had a mild case of tongue tie, and still does. This affected his ability to latch and remove milk efficiently. Breastfeeding was a struggle for us until he was about 2 months old or so. And then we both finally worked through it and learned how to nurse successfully despite the tongue tie. Nicholas still has tongue tie, but it’s such a mild case that every pediatrician has been reluctant to do anything about it. I feel as though the tongue tie caused so many problems with breastfeeding and is causing a delay in speech development now, so I think it’s time I take matters into my own hands with it and find someone who will do something about it. But anyway…

My husband joined us and we embraced our new child and life. The hospital stay was everything one could hope for in a hospital stay- nurses woke me and the baby up all day and night. The food wasn’t great, though not the worst I’ve ever had. The doctor who visited me the next day ripped the adhesive bandage off of my incision like I had insulted her mother or something. I know for a fact that there was a more humane way to do it. Adhesive remover does exist! The pediatrician used it to remove an adhesive label from my son’s leg. I swear it was hard not to take it personal. I had and have had more pain from her ripping that bandage off than I had and have had from the surgery itself. I fully intend to ask my usual doctor if that’s standard procedure. Stupid doctor. But anyway… I was so ready to get out of the hospital. It was recommended that I stay until Thursday morning, but I was determined to be out of there Wednesday afternoon. I peed in their measuring thing to prove I could pee normally after the catheter. I took a shower so that I could prove that I could shower without passing out. I walked around the floor multiple times a day to prove that I was recovering well. Shortly said, we left Wednesday afternoon.

I have been amazed at how much easier and speedy my recovery has been this time around. I couldn’t have walked around the floor 24 hours after having my first c-section. I couldn’t even pee unassisted for almost a week after my first c-section. I wasn’t able to move around the house good until about a week after either. I have no idea why my first experience was so hard. I know other women who have had c-sections and their experience seems to be in line with my experience this time. Maybe it’s because I labored so long beforehand, or because I was so sleep deprived and starving already, or because me and my first baby were so much bigger than this time. I don’t know. But I am so grateful that this time was not a repeat of my first experience. It has been about 5 days since I had my second son and I am walking around the house normally. I have been able to pee by myself since we were in the hospital. I can take showers unassisted and even walk up and down the stairs. Sometimes I wonder if I’m doing too much, but I’m only doing as much as I feel like I can.

I had some back pain after I had the baby, just like after my first baby, but it’s finally starting to go away. I think it takes a while for the body to adjust to the weight and posture change after being pregnant for 9 months and then being not pregnant all of a sudden. I’m still a little sore from the surgery, but it’s not painful really- just sore. Breastfeeding has made me a little sore, but nowhere near what it was with my first.

And then there’s the baby blues, which I posted about with my first child. Hopefully readers understand the difference between baby blues and postpartum depression. They are very different. Baby blues only last a couple of weeks after having a baby, and it’s caused by the hormonal shift women experience after having a baby. I don’t seem to have the baby blues per se this time, but I am experiencing the restlessness that I also had with my first. I am only getting about 3-4 hours of sleep every night. But strangely, I’m holding up pretty good still. I think it’s just the hormonal shift that’s screwing me up. I’ll sleep for a couple of hours until the baby wakes me up and then after being awake nursing and burping for half an hour or so, I have a hard time falling back asleep. Hopefully it’ll get better with time. But yeah- I don’t have the intense mood swings or crying that I had with Nicholas. I guess I get a little moody and emotional at night for a while, but no crying or anything, and it’s nothing like what I went through with Nicholas.

Now I have to rave some more about breastfeeding. I mentioned that Wayne latched perfectly from the beginning. Because of that, breastfeeding is a much more enjoyable experience in these first few days. Wayne breastfeeds for 10-20 minutes on each side and then sleeps for 2-4 hours. It’s beautiful. The tongue tie that my first baby had made breastfeeding a nightmare. He would have a very hard time latching. And then once he finally latched, he would take forever to empty a breast. I literally breastfed him around the clock. By the time he nursed on each side, it took so long that it was time to breastfeed again almost immediately. Because of that, he didn’t sleep well either. Looking back, I really wish that I had insisted that someone do something about his tongue tie. We shouldn’t have had to suffer as much and as long as we did. One of the first things I asked after Wayne was born was if he had any amount of tongue tie whatsoever. And please believe- I was going to make sure that something was done about it if so!

Wayne still has his days and nights mixed up, so he doesn’t settle down for the night until around midnight. But then he sleeps pretty good after that. He wakes up about twice between midnight and when our oldest son wakes up around 7:30. He seems to hate having a messy diaper, whether it’s pee or poop. He won’t even breastfeed sometimes until his diaper is changed first. Nicholas was never that way. And like I said before, he sleeps a ton. Nicholas was a horrible sleeper from the start. He really didn’t start becoming a better sleeper until he was about 11 months old.

So… these early days with our second son are much easier and I am definitely grateful , but it in no way affects the love I have for my first son. Those first few days were so very hard, but I’d do it all over again for him. And it’s a good thing we had that experience with our first child. I can’t imagine having that experience with our second child, especially if the first was good and easy. It would be even more difficult. I will be honest, I am bonding with my second son sooner than I did with my first, but it’s only because I am not in a crisis like I was with my first. I loved my first immediately, but bonding happened gradually as we overcame our trials and struggles together. But the bond that formed over time is incredibly strong now. A bond cultivated through such teamwork and love and sacrifice is something special and wonderful. I love both of my boys unconditionally. They are my world. My experience bringing each one into the world was very different, but they are both worth every challenge I have faced and will face as their mother. 

The Third Trimester

Some may have noticed that I didn’t post about the second trimester. There wasn’t anything note-worthy in the second trimester though. It was a breeze! I wasn’t sick, I didn’t have much exhaustion, and nothing alarming happened- thank goodness! My biggest craving was Chef Boyardee Spaghetti & Meatballs. The funny thing about the spaghetti and meatballs is that I couldn’t stand the meatballs, My husband finally asked me why I don’t just get the spaghetti without the meatballs, but the flavor is SOO different! I don’t know why, but the meatballs add a certain flavor to the spaghetti, but they’re awful themselves.

The third trimester started out very difficult and never has gotten much easier. At the end of the second trimester, I woke up one morning at about 4:30 in excruciating pain in my lower right abdomen. No position helped, a hot shower (I only put the hot water on that one place) didn’t help. Eating or drinking didn’t help. I was absolutely miserable. To make matters worse, I was traveling 5 hours home with my mother-in-law from St. George with my toddler. I felt like an idiot moaning and groaning and moving in my seat uncomfortably for five hours, but I couldn’t help it. The pain was indescribable. We almost stopped at an emergency room a couple of times during the trip. Finally, we got home. My husband was home and we thought about heading to the emergency room, but miraculously, the pain had subsided quite a bit, so we decided we didn’t need to. But then it came back and we rushed to the hospital.

The hospital ran tests for kidney stones and appendicitis, but ultimately sent me home with “round ligament pain”. I usually handle pain pretty well. I consider myself to have a higher-than-normal tolerance level for pain. I asked the nurse, “Is round ligament pain really supposed to be this bad? Is it really supposed to last this long? Do women really come to the emergency room with round ligament pain?” I could not imagine myself, with my high threshold for pain, being a wimp that went to the emergency room because of round ligament pain. I actually went home feeling very embarrassed, for going to the emergency room and at the thought of telling my mother-in-law that I carried on like an idiot over something so ridiculous.

The next few weeks went by basically uneventful. I had days of exhaustion, but overall I felt pretty good. However, at 29 weeks, my feel-good streak was about to come to a crashing halt. I had been vacationing in North Carolina with my family and toddler for a couple of weeks. It was the morning that my toddler and I were supposed to come home. I woke up at about 6:30 in the morning in excruciating pain in my lower right abdomen again. Only this time, it was much, much worse. I eventually threw up from the intense pain and almost passed out a few times as well. Finally, my dad and I decided it was time to go to the emergency room.

Honestly, the hospital didn’t take me very seriously for the first few hours. No red flags showed up on the urine or blood tests. No other tests had been given. They took me less seriously when I claimed my pain was an 8 or 9, but I didn’t want any pain medication. But like I said, I tolerate pain well and I don’t like to take any kind of medicine- especially when I’m pregnant. And I wasn’t about to take a strong narcotic if I was just experiencing “round ligament pain” again. But I knew something was wrong. I was going to be pissed off if they had sent me home with “round ligament pain”. It was something worse and I knew it.

They finally sent me back for an ultrasound and it all seemed very routine. The technician never raised an eyebrow or seemed concerned about anything. I went back to my room and waited, waited, waited. A CT scan was ordered, but I never made it to that test. After reviewing the ultrasound results, it was determined that I had an enlarged cyst that appeared to be on my right ovary. It was 6 cm (almost 2.5 inches) and it was twisting and cutting off circulation. I was told that the intense pain I was feeling was literally my ovary dying. I met about six or seven doctors after that ultrasound. Three different doctors came in to exam me. They all seemed very concerned. They all told me that emergency surgery was required, but they were having a hard time finding a surgeon who was willing to perform the surgery on a pregnant woman. The obstetrician was the main doctor sought after to perform the surgery, but he adamantly refused to perform such a risky surgery on a pregnant woman so far along in her pregnancy. I was too far along to have a laparoscopic surgery, so they would have to actually make an incision and work around my pregnant uterus and other vital organs. When all the other surgeons on staff refused, he finally agreed to do it- only because someone had to and he truly was the most qualified.

Now that I knew that there was a serious problem and that I wasn’t a pansy, I finally agreed to the lowest dose possible of pain medication to hold me over until they could get me into the operating room. It definitely helped and I was able to relax a little bit for the first time all day.

Before taking me back for the surgery, I was informed verbally and in writing of all the risks of surgery, which included but was not limited to: premature delivery of fetus, termination of pregnancy, injury to surrounding organs such as the bowels, and even death to myself. I mentioned how risky this surgery seemed and if it was really necessary (as if I could have endured the pain much longer). The doctor informed me that the risks of not performing the surgery were worse and even more likely. He told me that if this cyst was left untreated, it likely would not untwist this time and even if it did, it would twist again. It was only a matter of time. He told me I was at great risk of losing my ovary within hours and that a cyst that large and irritated could easily rupture, which would cause me to lose my ovary and possibly my baby. The risk of infection would be high with a rupture, which would also threaten my health and the baby’s life. Lastly, he assured me that I would receive a steroid shot for the baby’s lungs just in case he had to be delivered prematurely. I understood and signed that I acknowledged the risks of the surgery.

When the anesthesiologist placed the mask on my mouth, it was one of the scariest moments of my life. I did not know what I would wake up to. Would I still have my ovary? Would I still be pregnant? Would my baby be born early? Would my baby still be alive? The reluctance of any surgeon to perform the surgery in the first place made me super uneasy. But I exercised all the faith in my soul as I drifted off under the general anesthesia.

I had a hard time coming back from the anesthesia. I could hear everything going on around me. I heard all the conversations taking place. I heard the anesthesiologist talking about how I needed helping coming back, that the anesthesia wasn’t wearing off quickly enough. He told the surgeon that he gave me a drug that had been used in Europe for many years, but had just been introduced to the United States. After that, I started gaining more and more control over my body and I was able to start opening my eyes and responding. The first things I asked were if the baby was okay and if I was still pregnant. Thankfully, the nurse said yes to both questions. I was so relieved. I was also told that the cyst was removed successfully and that they were able to save the fallopian tube and ovary. That was the first I had even heard of the fallopian tube. The next morning, I was visited by one of the doctors who informed me that they thought that the cyst was on my ovary, but it was actually on my fallopian tube. She said the situation was more critical than they realized and that she was glad that they caught it in time. I was, too!

I spent the next few weeks recovering. The first two weeks were the hardest. Healing from surgery on top of being pregnant is horrible. I had no energy at all. I felt dazed and even depressed. It wasn’t the medication either. I only took pain meds for the first 12 hours after the surgery. I can’t remember what the name was, but my pharmacist father told me it was a strong narcotic- the closest thing you can get to heroin. I could have pushed the button to get a dose every 8 minutes if I wanted. But the most I ever pushed it was every two hours. I think I received about 4 doses in 12 hours, and I could have received about 90 in that time if I had wanted or needed it. I told you I have a high tolerance for pain! But mostly, I care deeply for my unborn child. He had already been exposed to enough. I didn’t want to do any more than I had to that might hinder his growth or development. And honestly, people might think I was trying to be superwoman, but they don’t understand the pain I was in BEFORE the surgery. The pain of healing from being cut open and having a cyst cut out of me was nothing compared to the excruciating pain that I was in beforehand. I could handle the pain I was in after the surgery, especially because I knew that it was temporary.

It has now been almost 7 weeks since that surgery and I basically feel like a normal pregnant woman again. I have no lingering pain or soreness from the surgery or cyst. Other than the incision scar, I wouldn’t even know I had ever had surgery. I am still experiencing the normal woes of pregnancy though.

I have days when the exhaustion is debilitating. Other days, I have lots of energy and I spend it on nesting and shopping and cooking food to freeze for after the baby. The past week or so, nausea has reared its ugly head again. But it’s not as bad as the first trimester. I just feel a little queasy for a few moments and then it goes away. I have had cramping on and off in the past week or so as well. I definitely feel like the baby went through a growth spurt recently. I was low on energy in addition to the nausea and cramping. But now, I seem to have some energy back and I’m not getting queasy as often. I have gained 34 pounds so far, which is more than I had hoped to gain by this point, but I’m still doing better this time than with my last pregnancy. I gained 52 pounds altogether last time. I am measuring about a week and half ahead according to my fundal measurements. I have an ultrasound scheduled for next week to determine the size of the baby and whether the c-section needs to be performed sooner than the 15^th.

In the third trimester, I have still been craving Chef Boyardee Spaghetti & Meatballs (hold the meatballs). I also crave rotisserie chicken and cake from Walmart, which is weird because I couldn’t hardly stand meat or sweets for the first half of my pregnancy. If I have the baby on the 15^th, that means I only have 29 more days left. I can’t tell you how excited and impatient I am! Sleeping at night is becoming a thing of the past. I toss and turn all night. It takes me forever to fall asleep and then I wake up really early, unable to fall back asleep. I realize that sleep will be hard to come by after the baby comes, but at least what little sleep I do get will be comfortable! Other than that, I feel so much pressure, which also happened at the same time as the cramping and nausea. I don't know if the baby got into position or what, but I constantly feel like he's about to fall out. And it hurts!

We are reconsidering a name for our baby. It all depends on what day he comes. You’ll find out why when the time comes! I have the hospital bags packed, meals and treats frozen, and everything ready for when baby comes home. Whenever he comes, I just hope that he is healthy and happy and that all will go smoothly with the delivery!

Sleep Training... Mission: Accomplished

This is going to seem so silly to parents who began sleep training their children much sooner. But… our child can finally put himself to sleep!

I would not be surprised if many people felt like my husband and I (okay, let’s be honest, it was all me) were too attached parents for too long. But what those people don’t understand is that I genuinely did not believe that I would ever get pregnant again. It took us four years to get pregnant with our son after having a miscarriage at 6 weeks in 2009. I believed that even if I ever did get pregnant again, I would probably miscarry or have an ectopic pregnancy or something like that. Call me dismal, but I just couldn’t bring myself to believe that I was suddenly cured of my “unexplained infertility” just like that.

So, I considered my son to be my one and only child. I felt lucky, blessed, privileged, honored, grateful that I had him. I cherished him and gave him 110% from the beginning. I breastfed him until he was 17 months and 1 week old. I shared my bed with him until he was just a few weeks shy of 2 years old. And to be honest, if I hadn’t been 31 weeks pregnant, I probably would have kept bed sharing for many more years. I started sleeping in the same room with him, but in a different bed when I was 30 weeks pregnant and then a week or so later, he was doing so well that we moved him into his own room. He has done very well in his own room. And I’ll admit, he even sleeps better in his own bed- and so do I (well, for a 34-week pregnant gal).

Our son had his 2-year check-up this Tuesday and we told him about how we always pat our son’s back or lay with him until he falls asleep for his nap and bedtime. I told him that it takes 10-30 minutes for him to fall asleep for his nap and it takes, on average, an hour for him to fall asleep at bedtime. It didn’t start taking that long until I weaned him. I could nurse him right to sleep in 5-20 minutes any time before that. For a long time after weaning him, we would literally sit or lay there and pat his back for an hour or more. For the past couple of months, we would only pat his back for 5 minutes or so at night and then we would lay with him for a while and sneak out after half an hour or so once he was still awake but too sleepy to notice. The doctor stressed the importance of getting him to fall asleep on his own before the baby comes. This seemed daunting at first, but I knew we had already made a lot of progress in the last few weeks and we could do it. We started two nights ago and I would cave every time because I was too exhausted to keep putting Nicholas back in his bed. But today… he finally put himself to sleep at nap time! It took 2 hours and me putting him back in his bed half a dozen times… but he did it! And now that he has done it once, hopefully it will take less and less time each time and he will become a pro at putting himself to sleep!

The First Trimester

I have not posted in my mommy blog in a very long time. Seven months to be exact. Life gets pretty hectic!

I am now pregnant with my second child and I thought I’d write about this experience. I am coming to the end of the first trimester. The first trimester was absolutely horrible. With my son, I had plenty of nausea, but I only threw up twice- once in the first trimester and once in the second trimester. But this time around, I cannot even count how many times I have thrown up. It started at about 6 weeks. For a while, it was every day. Then it was about every other day for a while. Then it became a couple of times a week. And now it seems to be gone for good. I haven’t thrown up in a week! Yay! I also have had INTENSE exhaustion! I have never been so exhausted in my life. I felt like I was dying from a terminal illness or something. Of course if I didn’t sleep well at night, it would be even worse. But even when I got a good night of sleep, I would feel like I hadn’t slept in days. I hardly cooked because I was either too tired or preparing food would just make me feel so queasy. We ate a lot of spaghettios and frozen meals! I actually became quite depressed from all the exhaustion and sickness. At one point, I even regretted my pregnancy. I couldn’t see the light at the end of the tunnel and I became so discouraged. I was very tired, irritable, and moody. I didn’t have any patience with my son- or anyone or anything for that matter. I felt like a monster. But now I am starting to feel more like myself. I am feeling more energetic and happy and bubbly again. I am so grateful! I'm sure my son and husband are, too!

Because of how much I threw up, I developed aversions to foods that were part of my worst vomiting experiences. For instance, I can’t eat burgers anymore, especially from Wendy's, and I can’t drink Gatorade anymore. Despite all my sickness, I still managed to gain 5 pounds in the first trimester. I think this is because I would “pig out” on my good days. I had hardly any appetite and vomited so much on the bad days, but then I would eat like crazy when I had a good day and I think I definitely overcompensated on those days. I also haven’t been working out since I found out I was pregnant. I mean, I go on walks a few times a week (which I’m hoping to make more of a daily thing now that I’m starting to feel better), but I used to run 2 miles a day at the gym about 5 times a week and outdoor 2-4 mile outdoor walks a few times a week on top of that. But I was just too sick and tired to work out for the past two months. 

I’m still pretty exhausted every day, but it’s not completely debilitating like it used to be. I have a fetal doppler that I used during my pregnancy with my son and I have been using it with this pregnancy, too. The baby hangs out on the left side of my belly (MY left when I look down at my belly) and he/she has a good, strong heart beat. I haven’t felt any flutters quite yet. I didn’t feel them until about 17 weeks with my son. Sometimes I think that I am having a girl, solely based on how different this pregnancy has been. But… when I look at the ultrasound pictures that we have from when I was 10.5 weeks along, I actually feel like it’s a boy. So I’m pretty torn. I knew from the beginning that it was a boy last time, and I was right. But I really just don’t know this time. Maybe it’s another boy and he’s just causing me more grief than my first son! We find out for sure on May 28th, which seems like an eternity from now. But we're actually finding out 5 weeks early by getting an early gender scan done. I still can't wait though!

Hopefully my worst days are behind me and the second trimester will be smooth sailing!