The exhaustion this time around seems all-consuming. Perhaps my memory has grown foggy, but I feel like I’m so much more lethargic in early pregnancy than I was when pregnant with Abby. Perhaps it is because I’m chasing a two-year-old now. Or perhaps it is just because this season of our family’s life has a lot of job/living stress, and I’m just not coping as well with pregnancy hormones in play.
On that note, my hormone levels came back in and my progesterone is fine (thank goodness), but for some reason my estrogen levels have dropped…Yikes! SO, my nurse wants to me to make sure to take my final dose right before bed this week. Then, we will retest in a couple of days. I can’t even imagine INCREASING my medications, but will do whatever this baby needs…
Which is apparently to go to the bathroom. Folks, the urge to pee is nearly as consuming as my desire to binge watch Netflix (not possible with Abby). I’m already waking up in the middle of the night to run to the restroom. This is going to get out of hand by third trimester if my body doesn’t adjust soon. Oh, well.
Emotionally, I’m still kind of in shock. I feel detached. Tired. With maybe a touch of hope. One of these days the truth that I’m pregnant will hit me, but until then, I am just making it one day at a time.
I think I’ve learned a new taste of grace.
As a mom.
I expect just a little less from myself, and am finding beauty in treasuring my secret. This baby. Some silence. And, yes, we are slowly telling friends/family, but it will probably be a while before we make an “announcement.” I’m just not ready. I like my secret.
I also appreciate pre-prepared food. By dinner time, the last thing I want to do is manage Abby’s after-nap crankiness and creatively cook. So we bought frozen meals yesterday. That too is grace.
And microwaved ease for this tired mama.