It's occurred to me lately how much this pregnancy has physically affected me. Much more than with my pregnancy with Patrick, I am very aware of the uncomforts of growing, those that I did not notice with Patrick until I was weeks away from delivering. Don't get me wrong, I am not complaining. I put myself in this position and I'm thrilled about that. It's just amazing to me the work that the body has to do and withstand to grow a child.

For example, I cannot lay down comfortably. On my back hurts, on my stomach is very uncomfortable, and on my side seems unnatural, so I'm constantly trying to find some in-between. I should probably get used to this, as it doesn't go away for quite some time, but it seems awfully early to me to have this issue. Secondly, by the end of the day, my joints hurt. My knees, elbows, hips...my shoulders, even. Everything hurts. I'm nauseaus and starving at the same time. Parts of me are so swollen that the skin is shiny. They look nice, but don't touch. They hurt immensely. Unbelievable. I'm not tired, however. I'm the opposite of tired. Well...no...that's not even true. I just can't sleep well. All of this, and I'm 15 weeks along. Should be a fun 25 more, right? Oh, but it is. I feel like I'm just still in the awkward stages. I want to hit 20 weeks...that should be the end of the awkwardness...right?

I remember being pregnant with Patrick and feeling incredible. I felt so pretty and healthy. I sported stilettos until the day that I delivered (literally), and, aside from fairly terrible back pain in the evening, felt like a million dollars. I wonder if my memory is playing tricks on me or if toting around a 25-lb toddler on top of a growing belly is wearing on me. I am weeks away from turning in my heels...reluctantly. Let's hope it doesn't come to that.