You know, my memories of being pregnant with both the Orclette and Miniorc are mercifully dim. I say mercifully, because I remember enough to know that if I well and truly remembered the experience I would have had Damm snipped the moment the Orclette was born. I think it's that way with quite a few people, although I know a few who claim to love the experience. In case it's not clear, I don't love the journey. I understand the necessity and I'll bear whatever I need too but really, I love the end, when you finally get to meet the little person and life, which has sort of been on hold, goes forward again.
We are almost out of the first trimester, and this experience has been different from the first two. With both the Orclette and Miniorc I was a bit tired, but nothing like the bone-crushing weariness I've had with this one. For several weeks I would make it home from work, stagger onto the couch, and lie there prone until I fell asleep an hour or two later. Now I am able to participate in activities again, and we even went on a 4-mile jaunt this past weekend. I've had some nausea but nothing like what I had with the Miniorc. I was still able to function, although my diet subsisted of chips and cheese for a while. Now I just have indigestion, which probably won't completely go away. Isn't that lovely? At least I can eat eggs and drink coffee again.
Another change is that I'm already wearing different clothes. It's not all maternity; I found quite a few shirts that are drapy and yoga-esque that will fit perfectly for months to come. My jeans still fit but only because they're low-rise. The clothes I wear disguise my figure fairly well but the stomach has expanded (I despise the word "bump". Don't ask me why, I just do). This is taking some getting used to, since I don't remember having to transition until I was four months or so with the Orclette and Miniorc.
My job is going well. You might remember me being pleased that it involves lifting up to 50 lb boxes. It still does, but I have started modifying some of what I do. The heaviest things I let others deal with or I ask for help. The recommendation that I not lift anything over 20-lbs made me laugh, since 20 lbs barely feels like anything to me. 40 lbs is the limit I have set for myself for now, with the expectation that I might need to adjust further on down the line. The flurry of "Be careful!" from my co-workers has eased a bit as they've seen me carry along with no difficulty.
And there you are. Isn't being pregnant fun?