So, I’ve had this secret for the past few months. It’s been hard not to write about it, which is one of the reasons my blog has been quiet lately. The more I wanted to spill my secret, the further I stayed away.
But it’s time now, I think.
Back in January, I got quite the surprise with a positive pregnancy test.
Yes, that’s right.
I’m pregnant again!!!
Eeek!!!! Number 3 is on the way!!! I was initially terrified and anxious and a doubting Thomas. This wasn’t exactly planned, but I also knew deep down that I wasn’t quite done with two children. I wanted one more pregnancy, one more child. I would look at my son, the baby, and think that he should be a big brother. So, if all goes well, come mid-September, he will be.
For the most part, my first trimester was very similar to my other two pregnancies – extreme fatigue and vague nausea. Though, I have to admit, the vague nausea was much more pronounced this time. For several weeks I have to say, I felt gross. Nothing would settle my stomach except, perhaps, the concoctions of fruit juice, club soda and bitters my husband would make for me in the evenings.
The other thing that was new was this running thing I’d been doing. You may recall that I was close to reaching my goal of running 10 km. Sadly, that’s not going to happen anytime soon. I tried a few runs during those first few weeks, but just couldn’t get past 2-3 km without shin splints, breathlessness and sheer exhaustion. Clearly, my body was trying to tell me something. There was pretty much zero exercise with the first two pregnancies – not exactly healthy, I know – but that’s just the way it was. I walked a lot, yes, but that was the extent of my exercise. My pregnant body liked sitting on the couch, cross-stitching.
So, there you have it. My confessions.
I’m pregnant again.
I’m not running.
And I’m spending the next 6 months, on my butt, on the couch, cross stitching…. with some walking here and there.