There are no many things not to like about pregnancy. You go through all this drama trying to even get pregnant and then your body rewards you with some truly weird, puberty-like stuff. That being said, I have enjoyed both of these pregnancies. I’ve been healthy and haven’t had a lot of nausea or other complications, and I can live with swollen feet for a few months if it means that I can pretty much keep doing what I was doing before, only wearing uglier shoes. Plus, people are nice to you.
My favorite part is the kicks. It’s hard to describe them. A lot of the baby books describe a “fluttering” feeling, but it’s more like an undulating water bed or a rumble. It’s definitely weird, but pleasant weird in a “oh, there you are” way. Like, there’s a PERSON in me. Now that I’m heading toward the third trimester, the kicks are more painful. Kicks to the ribs, sharp sticks to the hoo hah, and random rumbling pains in places I was sure the kid couldn’t reach. Still, even on my crustiest of days, they make me smile, and if I get kicked hard, I might even laugh out loud.
After Zygote was born, I missed the kicks. I couldn’t quite get used to her being on the outside, so I would sit her on my belly and let her wriggle around to try and simulate that feeling. I’m sure it’s going to be the same with Z2.
This is likely my last pregnancy. Or as YG puts it, “well, the last time you will be pregnant with one of MY kids.” So I’m going to keep enjoying those sharp jab to the junk while I have them.