The glory, gripes and guzzlings of a second pregnancy

I am very excited to welcome the lovely Sarah, from Pearls of Willsdom to not another slippery dip.  Sarah kindly agreed to write a guest post for my site. She is currently pregnant with her second child and in this funny post she reflects on the many differences between her first and second pregnancies. If you’ve ever been pregnant a second, or a third time, you will relate to this. Sit back and enjoy a laugh.

For most women I know, the differences between their first and subsequent pregnancies are marked, mainly by a sense of contented nonchalance and acceptance. Without detracting from the amazing biological process that is one human creating another, my point is best demonstrated by the following:

FIRST PREGNANCY                                                  SECOND PREGNANCY

We’re pregnant!                                                          I’M pregnant.

I can’t wait until I get a bump.                                I’m showing already? I’m only 3 weeks!

I’m 18 weeks and 5 days pregnant.          I’m…umm. Hang on. Let me see. 19 wks. I think.                                                                                             

I’d like to try for a natural birth.                             One epidural to go.

Is this deli meat? No thanks.                                   Nom, nom, nom. More Mylanta, please.

At 29 weeks into my second pregnancy, there are several things I’ve particularly enjoyed to-date, such as not buying every available parenting magazine and book, searching for the perfect his-or-her baby name, and – above all else – Nutella.

However, I’m now at the stage where Mother Nature is making her presence felt. You know what She does, right? Gradually makes you feel more and more uncomfortable until you’re actually happy at the thought of episiotomies and epidurals because it means THE END OF PREGNANCY.

With an October due date that feels so close yet so far, I’m fat, itchy and over it.

Without coming across as a whining, hormonal banshee (which I am, I just don’t want to sound like one), the next 11 weeks look set to include more of the following:

1. Waddling

It could be the baby sitting lower in my pelvis thanks to – as my obstetrician said – the muscles not having the same strength or stretch (sob!), or it could be to avoid the discomfort of one’s thighs firmly smooshing against each other with every step. Either way, I’ve been walking like a duck since the 24-week point.

2. Growing bigger (if that’s possible)

As someone who leans more towards the Jessica Simpson-style of pregnancy load, I get so envious of women who put on the recommended amount of 11 – 15kgs.

In saying that, I’m one of those types who love knowing other women’s pregnancy weight gains and am sure disclosing the following will make some readers feel better.

Here goes:  at 179cm, I hover between 62 and 65kgs non-pregnant. I gained 23kgs with my first pregnancy, and am currently sitting at 18kgs while looking down the barrel of the third-trimester. Yikes. Paint me green and call me Hulk.

(However, it was some comfort when a good friend recently said to me: ‘Sarah, some babies need a caravan; others need five-star accommodation with plush surrounds. Yours is the latter.’)

3. Astonished expressions

‘Hoorah for looking full-term from 6.5 months’, said no one ever.

4.     Silent prayers

Dear God, please let it be true that second labours are much faster than the first. Amen.

Sorry, God – it’s me again. Just to clarify that while I’d like it to be quicker, please ensure it’s not to the extent that I give birth in the shower or hospital car park. I’m not down with that. Amen.

5.     Itching

Two days ago, Dr Google convinced me I had a rare pregnancy liver condition that results in entire-body itching and an induction at 37 weeks. After blood tests only revealed slight anaemia, I’ve accepted the itch is simply my skin stretching across my increasing girth.

As a result, I will be scented with a delightful combination of Pinetarsol ointment and menthol body cream until my due date.

6. Squeezing into maternity clothes

I refuse to buy bigger maternity gear which means I’m now relegated to harem pants, stretch leggings, maxi dresses and pyjamas until giving birth. Oh, how I wish PJs were appropriate work wear!

7. Hair glory

The downside of thicker hair in subsequent pregnancies is knowing what lies ahead post-birth. For me, it’s six solid months of hair loss and a further 18 months growing out the ridiculous spikey layer and receding hair line. (I’m blaming hormones for planting the seed of a pre-emptive strike via pixie cut. This is a bad idea, isn’t it? ISN’T IT?)

8. Pelvic floor exercises

Or rather, trying to convince myself to do them. I know they’re necessary but they are SO BORING. As someone who’s distracted easily, I do two or three Kegels and then I’m off with the fairies thinking about a push present. Or Nutella.

The best possible outcome to all of the above is, of course, holding a healthy, pink, squished, crying bundle of baby joy in one’s arms, but if you want to share wisdom, frustrations or laughs from your own pregnancies, go right ahead…if only to make me feel comforted!

PS. Just today a (rather large) lady asked me if I was sure I wasn’t having twins. I said I was indeed sure and laughed. Then I asked her when she was due* and waddled off.

*No, I didn’t; I just imagined saying it VERY LOUDLY. (But the waddling did happen – sigh.)

Sarah Wills is a mother of one (and pregnant with her second), she enjoys a laugh – often at herself – and writing about the funny side of life at www.pearlsofwillsdom.com.

Can you relate to any of these experiences? What’s been different about your subsequent pregnancies? Sarah, and I, would love to hear from you.