I’m going to try and write this essay as an homage to my second pregnancy, but also as a cautionary tale against setting unfair (and most likely unrealistic) expectations and standards. Cuz when things go so glittery and magical on the first go-round, there’s this thing called “life” that often steps in and reminds you who’s boss. And then some guilt sets in…

You see… my first pregnancy was a breeze. I was 36 (by no means young, but obviously younger than I am now), had one HUGE and enormously fun design job I was working on, and in my free time was taking yoga and napping whenever possible. Up until 8 months, I honestly had no aches or pains, and besides the fact that Parker was breech and I ended up with a C-Section that I hadn’t originally planned for… I was so convinced of the “ease” of pregnancy that I signed up for round two almost immediately.

A devastating loss and a year to recover left me less confident, but still convinced that our family was meant to grow by one. And that “one” is now due in about two months…

Bottom line… I cannot WAIT to meet her! But as I sit here with my displaced rib and severe sciatica, I think… DAMN… I was naive to believe that these 9 months could live up to the Zen that the first achieved! But in a way, I am almost more acutely aware of the miracle that pregnancy provides, due to the mere fact that my body has chosen to remind me almost each and every step of the way this time around.

Oh hey reality… nice to meet you!

#1 I could slap that giddy “I never got nauseous even once!” first timer… and I’m surprised no one else did.

High on my first pregnancy, I flaunted the fact that I felt fabulous. Stay humble my friends… round two might kick you in the ass. Nausea was the name of the game my first three months, and narcoleptic tendencies have nagged me these entire 7 months, leaving personal deadlines trailing in the dust. I’ve been tough on myself, while friends have told me to cut myself some slack. “Do the best you can” doesn’t always feel like you’re doing enough, though, in this fast paced world of blogging and design.

#2 Never underestimate the toll a toddler can take!

Those narcoleptic tendencies… oh just a tad tough to take care of when you’re chasing a 2-3 year old (with more energy than you’ll ever physically be capable of again) around. The desire to be 100% there for him, while it’s been important to take care of myself (and my new little one) is a physical tug-of-war I never expected (or was just too naive to think about). I give so much props to the moms of multiple kids (2, 3, 4 and more!)… I honestly don’t know how you do it! I now bow down to my mother-in-law… mother of 7. You are a GODDESS!

#3 Can I really feel more unprepared the second time around?

Physically, I am in pain. Sciatica has struck from picking up my little man a few times too many (See #2), I displaced a rib from that nasty cough we caught on the way home from Boston, and I am faced with a natural childbirth that I felt ready for with Parker, but now I am questioning and fearful of. I feel like such a baby… not like the grown up woman that’s about to have one. It’s time to start the hypno-therapy, hire a doula, and do whatever it is these days that allows the “birth plan” to give some sort of semblance of sanity on the way to the hospital.

So the guilt…

Does my baby girl know I don’t feel so glittery and magical… that I’m having a tougher time?

No way! Cuz I’m sending her love every day… exploding with it… with every kick and moment this little girl has blessed me with.

I am so beyond grateful for this opportunity to be a mom again… and that is where the magic happens… not to mention the fact that my life with her will be FULL of glitter and sparkle… if I have anything to do with it.

I am truly humbled by this experience… and sometimes a little humility does a body (and mind) good… just as much good as any fairy dust could give you my friends!