(Article two of the "On Being Pregnant Series")
Although my girth was unchanged, my first trimester was always the worst. I felt tired and a little sick all the time. It didn't matter if I slept 23 and 1/2 hours a day, as that 1/2 hour of awake time would be spent yawning, rubbing my eyes whilst wishing I would just throw up so I could feel a little better. All this and there's no adorable baby bump to show for it. I was sure people were wondering if I was milking-it. After all, I sure looked the same.
By the second trimester it was abundantly obvious that I was pregnant, but only to me apparently. I'd think my belly was big but other people could hardly see the difference. "You're not even showing yet!" I'd hear often. As any mom will tell you, the second trimester is golden. I felt much better with most of my energy back, and I only had a bun in the oven rather than the whole bread truck. Also, as pregnant ladies are wont to do, I'd radiate that glow that is a composition of hormones, super vitamins and happiness. By the end of the second trimester I can remember looking down at my belly and thinking incredulously, "I'm going to get even bigger?"
By the third trimester, I always felt great. When my baby belly first appeared, it always seemed to be in the way, then I'd grow accustomed to the odd weight distribution and girth, and it soon became the new normal. Then it would grow again and I'd start all over again. Interestingly though, when I was huge I could sometimes forget it was even there. Especially with the second baby, since I was usually preoccupied with my three-year-old. I'd start talking with other moms at the park and after a few minutes one might ask me how far along I was.
"Hummm - what? Oh yes this, (pointing to my belly) I'm 35 weeks".
Once I joked, "What am I showing?"
"Uh yeah, lil' bit," was the reply.
Sometimes I'd wonder if under my thick sweater it was even noticeable; after seeing pictures of myself in said sweater --yes, yes, it was noticeable.
Even though I was big, in general I felt pretty spry. Ironically this is when I'd get the most help from family, friends and strangers. Holding doors, offering up their chair or place in line. I'd usually politely decline—or graciously accept, depending on the circumstances, while sometimes thinking—boy this sure would have been great during my first trimester!