April Was a Rough Long Month, Part I

It's really hard to believe that last year today, Chase and I were on our first trip to Thailand together. I couldn't sleep last night and was looking through the videos and pictures from our trip along with the other 5,000 or so that was on the computer. It was such a trip down memory lane for me. Her tiny, round body with sweet baby rolls all over. Those two bottom teeth that I never thought would show up. How she used to call herself "Che, Baby." I can't believe it's only been two years since she came into our lives. On April 25th, my darling baby turned 2, thus officially surrendering the "infant" status forever and now requires her own seat on an airplane. I'd been whispering into her ears for days that her birthday was coming up and never managed to not tear up a little. Her last birthday as an only child. Maybe the last birthday that she would say something as adorable as "Ma buy Chase a crane?" when I asked what she wanted for her birthday (more later on the crane). As I lay pathetically on the couch this past month, I often question my decision to get pregnant again. Didn't I know that this pregnancy would suck (remember the last time?!?)? Was our party of five not enough already? Didn't Chase deserve our love and undivided attention? Wil was more than happy with our perfect little human, whom, according to her father, broke the mold when she came into the world. How will I be able to teach her to read before the age of three when I have another baby permanently attach to my chest? Then Chase came out of her room, her arms full of dolls and stuffed animals. One by one, she gently guided them down her little slide and said "I got you!" I knew then that our second, and LAST, baby was a gift to us all. To teach me about more patience, love, and better time management. To be adored by the best father in the world and give him the kind of family he dreamed about as a child. But most of all, this is Chase's baby. When I'm on my death bed and look back on this time, I will know that it was the right decision to give my children each other to love, care for, and shoulder life's unexpected challenges together. Or that's what I will tell myself when I threat to ship them off to military school if they don't stop pushing each other down the stairs or clawing each other's eyes out again.

Even though I'm mostly at peace with the pregnancy, it's still bothering me a little that I don't yet feel a strong connection with this human parasite that is sucking the life out of me. I thought I felt a kick last week, which was probably more like gas, but I didn't get really excited about it. I'm trying to tell myself that it's because of the exhaustion and nausea and not for the lack of love or enthusiasm. I know it will come. Trust me, Baby, I won't short-change you of motherly smothering. Clearly, spending too much time on the couch this past month has not been good for my mental state.

Goal for May: puke less, sit upright and shower more often, embrace comfy maternity wear, and blog more--with pictures (you're welcome, Mom). I will attempt to catch you up on our lives in Part II of the very long April. See you soon, Peeps.