Birthday Blossom Recap

Recently I experienced my first pregnant birthday.  (Ok, you caught me, it was like a month ago.  Cut a gal some slack).

I turned 29 for the first time, and plan to remain 29 indefinitely.

As you may imagine from my recent blogging absences, I didn't feel so hot.

One of my friends asked me recently how this pregnancy is different than the last.  I struggled to answer in any coherent sentences.  It's just.... hard?  Because I know what's coming?  Even though I know the first trimester does end. It ended this week I guess. But I'm teaching full time and chasing a nearly-toddling 1 year old and doubting myself and all sorts of emotionally upside down.  So I'm tired.  Which is normal.  Yet overwhelming.  And I throw up less but I cry more and I just but then somehow it could seems........

See, even there - incoherent.

At any rate, the nausea and exhaustion that is starting to subside now, was up and in full force back during Apple Blossom Birthday time.  That, and some serious sinus/headcold misery.  I was insistent that my hometown not find out I was pregnant just yet, so I strapped on my happy smile and made the most of it.

That picture was from the Fireman's Parade.  Isn't he darling?  I think so at least.  He hardly smiled, but I think that's mostly because he'd been in the car for two hours only to end up at an overstimulating parade without a normal dinner meal.

The next day we buddied up with M and her girlfriend N.  We spread our blankets in the former state senator's yard and we avoided everyone.  Sadly, I realized later that meant I had missed an opportunity to see someone I actually had really wanted to see.  On the up side, I missed all the fake hugs and how are you's that come with returning home on one of three yearly occasions that anyone goes back.  I'll see them at Thanksgiving.  Or I won't because I'll be in labor.  We'll see.

The highlight of the parade, aside from watching PDG clap, giggle, crawl, and cheer with us, was Papa H and Mama H riding in the Grand Feature itself.  As president of a local charitable organization, my dad got a convertible and a sign.  He says people shouted and yelled for him, screaming that the sign should've said "best math teacher ever" and other things to that effect.  I'll admit, it's pretty cool having parents who have taught half the town, and did a pretty superbly amazing job at that, such that they are practically celebrities.

By the time the parade ended we were all pretty pooped.  We packed up, drove home, threw up, and had some dinner.  Step number three was just me.  Everyone else managed to transition from the drive to dinner far more smoothly.

So the next morning, when Mama and Papa H offered to take PDG to church and let me and J-Man stay home and rest I said YES!  Best birthday present I could've asked for.  Me and my J-Man, cuddled on the couch, snotty and sick and getting older and proclaiming we will not have any more children and happily in love.

And here I am, writing about this all with a smile.  How does pregnancy make you so quickly nostalgic in such a happy way for days when you are in pain and/or miserable?