This Time it’s Different

I never put much stock in those words, “this time it’s different.” Pregnancy is pregnancy, right? Not so, but for many more reasons.

1. I’m 4 years older. I thought being a healthy individual would be enough, but my doctor and Mother Nature remind me that there are more aches and pains as we age. You learn to deal with it, or whine a little as necessary.

2. You carry the baby lower. I thought this was a falsehood, but no I am already panicking as I pull out my slightly too-short-to-look-cute maternity pants, because let’s face it, my regular ones aren’t meant for this um… girth.

3. Cravings differ. Yes, I still have an aversion to alcohol and coffee, just like last time. But I am not craving juicy fruits, my “queasy” stage lasted a two weeks longer (AWESOME). I would be mid meal and I would have to walk away. This is not as familiar as I expected.

4. We’ll get there. The baby’s room is still very much a “storage” space from when we moved (8 years ago) and from our recent master bedroom repaint (the guest bed is a perfect space for pictures and random clothing). I feel like I have all the time in the world to get organized to tackle the closet of Moving Shame (8-year-old box fort anyone?) It has a domino effect, can’t do much with the baby’s room until we clear the shelving downstairs to move books and tchotckies. Can’t do much with those items until we get frames and hang things up on the walls. Can’t get to that part of the living room until we get the toys downstairs into the new “creepy” playroom (I hate this idea). Can’t start the playroom “repaint/remodel” until we undo the “storage” it has become.

5. I know what is at stake. Last time my pregnancy was very much an abstract concept. A little sea monkey was developing and using my various innards as a springboard of fun. I wasn’t attached to the idea of motherhood. The ultrasound was an abstract experience (is that my uterus we are exploring?) I had lost my dad only 2 months prior so much of my pregnancy was shrouded in grief. I was afraid to expect a baby in the end since I could lose it just like I had lost my dad. Yes, I never thought past the pregnancy. So, Motherhood and all it entails, came as a loud, jarring alarm clock. This time, I know there is a tiny person growing, I know he or she is nudging around and reminding me to eat well and keep us healthy and safe. It’s depending on me for this. That’s a huge difference. I am its home, its safe keeper, its nutritionist and its story reader (thank Henry for his vast interest in books at night.)

It’s simple that huge.

I have a feeling that this Thursday afternoon I will cry like a baby when I see the little shape wiggling on the screen during the ultrasound, while Henry meets him or her for the first time. He will likely ask many questions over and over again, and it will be a special moment to share with him. He will likely bring up the experience for many months to come.

So if anyone asks me, is the next pregnancy different? I can answer with certainty that it is.