Feeling Pregnant.

Finally, I'm starting to feel pregnant. Not for lack of symptoms. For weeks the thought of soggy napkins, chunks of meat, hair, anything with an odor, and among other things, the sound of a dog licking its lips have all been making me want to hurl. I'm exhausted, probably a little moody, and when I'm not wanting to puke I'm ravenous with hunger. But that's different. Those are pregnancy symptoms. Feeling pregnant is different.

Feeling pregnant is breathing a little bit deeper with each breath because there is an extra bit of life inside of you. It's warmth and love and dreams. Feeling pregnant is the empowering knowledge that while my body is my own, there is a huge, amazing, greater power using my body as a vessel for life. Feeling pregnant is feeling like a vessel. And feeling pregnant is appreciating all of that, even while I want to puke.

I thought maybe I'd struggle with telling my boys our family was getting bigger. Like maybe another soul needing love was an injustice to my already here babies. Maybe they didn't want less of me and more sibling companionship. Maybe they'd be jealous, or hurt, or worse, just plain not understand. But the funny thing about my babies, and the ridiculous thing about me, is that they never do the things that I worry about. Never. Just a thought, but maybe that means I should stop worrying. Bub is thrilled. Thrilled for a new baby brother, but if it's a sister he'll "still be ok." And Teebs, my ornery little monster, I think he's trying. He is demanding to be potty trained and each day his words get clearer and bigger.

The only thing better than feeling pregnant is feeling like a mother, a wife, a family. The only thing better is feeling life. And while the pregnancy does put a strain on our family dynamics, we are feeling life. We are feeling grateful. I'll feel sick for a few more weeks, I'll pout and tell Tom I'm in agony until he brings me warm mashed potatoes in bed. But the bad parts, the pregnancy symptoms, they will pass. The feeling pregnant, that will last all nine months, until that extra bit of life is places in my arms.

A few Saturdays ago Bub and I crept out into the backyard together, soaking our socks in just watered grass to watch the sunrise. It was a simple moment, but for that simple moment, we breathed a little bit deeper. This is such a special time in our family, a little challenging, a bit of a struggle, but one more baby just means more moments like this. These rough weeks will pass, but it's ok, because we have so much to look forward to.

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