Glow-Happy I am not

So much has happened since I last wrote. I realize now why I had trouble keeping a consistent journal! Sheesh!

Although I must be totally honest, here in my personal corner of the interwebs, and admit that part of why this blog has been hard for me to keep up is that I've set up false expectations of it and of myself. When I first started I had the intention of recording all of my excitement and Baby boy A's milestones during this pregnancy. So far I've done pretty good on this front. Except for one thing.

I haven't felt that pregnant-glow-happy-one-with-my-body-love lately. Yesterday, I hit the maternity store desperate for a new bra (just one would have been lovely) that fit my ever expanding chest-area. No such luck for me. I was so disheartened I nearly cried...in the dressing room...over my boobs. I was that pregnant-emotional-why-is-this-happening-to-my-body lady. I held back the tears but decided to make myself feel better by picking up a swimsuit (ha...hahaha). Again, no such luck, mainly due to the pregnant boob issue. I ended up spending 2 hours and $150 (on clothes) and leaving feeling ugly, only to get home and discover 2 new white head zits. Seriously.

It's hard for me to write this (although also very cathartic) because I never thought I'd have such a hard time with my body at this stage in my pregnancy. I can remember during most of the first trimester just wanting and craving a little baby bump so that the whole wide world would know that I had this superpower of growing a human. And for the most part, I'm ok with my now very obvious baby bump. But the two bumps above it are driving me up the wall!! And don't get me started on the teenage-boy acne.

All of this is to say, I'm feeling disillusioned at the moment. Pregnancy is (or can be) beautiful and exciting and wonderful and awe-inspiring. I still have those moments (like when I start to worry and think to Baby boy A "ok kick me so I know you're fine in there" and then he does! That rocks my face off!). But in the past few days, and really since starting this blog, it's been hard for me to say out loud that there are things I don't like about it and that it isn't always pretty and I don't feel like a sexy pregnant woman. I feel huge and ugly.

I guess this is the start of being real with myself and with Baby boy A. As much as I'd love to be that pregnant-glow-happye-one-with-my-body woman, I'm just not all the time. Nor will all the expectations I have for Baby boy A become reality. But at least I'll really know what he's going through if he ever hits that awkward-teenage-boy-with-acne-and-braces phase.