A Tale of Two Mommies

…because more seems excessive…

Survival of the Fittest

Pregnancy is an interesting thing.  In many ways it’s easier going through this a second time; I have a frame of reference and can understand the big picture better this time around.  One thing, however, continues to amaze me; a reminder of how taxing it is to grow a human.

I like to think I am a fairly fit person.  I’m certainly a long way from an Iron Man competition, but I have some capacity to be active…until now anyway.  I’m sure those looking at me would marvel at my energy, but I feel slower.  I also injure much more easily.  Exercise to me isn’t so much a factor in weight loss as a piece of my “me” time that simply makes me feel human.  I’m always aware of the days/weeks I haven’t managed to carve this piece into my day.  Even during my two scheduled days off, I miss the time.

My time is first thing in the morning before Mr. Man decides to begin his day, thankfully at the reasonable hour of 7.15ish.  My gold standard time is ninety minutes, which I often achieve.  Sometimes I even manage a shower if my son is having a late start.  Prior to pregnancy, I could complete the time without issue on any of the machine programs, hustle around the house or on activities with Little Man, and even complete an additional thirty minutes later if I was feeling antsy during a later nap time.  Overnight, however, the ninety minute duration is all I can manage.  If we have an activity scheduled, I know I will need to reduce the time, so as to not collapse in an embarrassing display of fatigue in the middle of the group…While some of the other Mommies involved are pregnant at some these activities, I have to assume that some random Mom snoring in the middle of the floor might put a kink in my social inclusion…

This isn’t so much a complaint.  True, I miss the days of traveling up a flight of stairs without heaving my lung, and I’d appreciate the ability to walk from my car into any store without feeling my heart race, but I remember well having the same issues with my son’s pregnancy.  I felt out of shape for months, forgetting life before and admittedly whined to anyone who would listen how ridiculous my inability to move was, assuming pregnancy had ruined me.  I marveled the very day I returned home after his birth with the sudden ability to bound up stairs without a moment of consideration.

Dr. Google claims that second and subsequent time Mommies carry lower, and I wanted desperately to believe him (Dr. Google must be a man because any woman holding this information would have bitch slapped me long ago…).  But, alas, my strength training session all these months must have paid off because I am carrying high again, and have the opportunity to experience the thrills of what breathing through a straw must feel like had I ever had the desire to know previously.

Ironically, my purposeful exercise, provided it is completed on the lowest manual resistance, isn’t the problem every other aspect of motion is at this time.  But, this time around I’m not as concerned; although gotta say, it would be nice to be able to breathe when I’m reading stories to my son…Who would have thought my reading technique spurred such dramatics as to initiate a wheeze every few pages?  Regardless, I am officially in my second trimester, and most of my thoughts focus on the upcoming feel of my daughter’s movement; that makes this whole thing worthwhile…

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