The "Second Baby" Body: The Good, the Bad and the Bloated

Alright one-time mamas, I'm going to let you in on a little secret truth: you WILL show a lot faster when you become "with child" for the second time. It is inevitable. You can't outsmart the bump. And it won't creep up silently...oh no, girls. It will come like an atomic bomb in the dead of night.

(Can I get an ayyyyyyyyy-men from my Choir of Moms?)

And you'll be all like, "Hey doc, are you sure there's just one in there?"
And he'll nod his head and, with a smile, remind you that "your uterus is larger and more roomy now."

Wow, dude. Thanks for making me feel like the friggin' Holiday Inn Deluxe Suite.

For real though, somewhere around week 15, I went into the bathroom one morning and BAM! The bump had made itself very present. Don't get me wrong, if I'm going to be pregnant, I want to look pregnant. I just didn't know one could go from a flat(ish) tummy to a full-fledged bump quite literally overnight.

My feelings toward this can best be expressed with everybody's favorite Emoji, Bulgy Eyes:

In addition to my stomach shooting out like WOAH, there are some really fun (no seriously, I'm not being sarcastic) second-baby-body perks. Like, I actually am getting to enjoy a bumpier bump this time. With Caroline, I always had this weird torpedo shape to my baby belly, but Miss Ainsley has brought mama a rounder and more basketball-like (err, at least dome-shaped) baby bump, which I kind of love.

Taken this morning at work. Here we are!

And gosh, did I ever miss pregnancy hair and fingernails. (For the whole five months I was not pregnant, anyway.) I mean, who needs extensions when you've got B-complex vitamins surging through your veins, amIright?

However, with a rapidly expanding bump comes a rapidly expanding need for maternity clothes. With Caroline, I got away nearly to the bitter end with just regular tops and a single pair of maternity pants. ONE PAIR.

I had to gently explain to Stephen why mama may need to purchase a few more maternity items with this bambina. And by "gently explained", I mean I hormonally sobbed in our bathroom one morning while tossing pants around left and right and exclaiming, "I'm a beast!!"

To which he lied to me hugged me and said I was "very pretty and slim", and told me to order whatever my pregnant heart desired.

Thank you Lawd for giving me a kind and understanding man. A man who is equal parts sympathetic and terrified of my raging hormones. 

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All HCG and the unceasing need to pee aside, I freaking love seeing my body support another life. It's beautiful and scary and humbling to think that the human body can sustain and grow another being. It's like the coolest science project ever.

Last night after a glorious round of barfing, I was perched on the couch eating a bowl of pretzels with a ginger ale, and Ainsley kicked. It wasn't terribly hard kick, but more of a little shuffle-ball-change, (tap dancers say what?!) It was like, "Hey mom. I'm here. Thanks for being a pal and bringing me into this world."

And I rested my hand on top of my tummy and thanked the good Lord for letting me do this again.

Because honestly, it's awesome.