That mythical second trimester

That mythical second trimester

I know that there really is such thing as the second trimester. I’ve even met some pregnant mothers who have actually experienced it. In fact, just the other day, I met a mother who was seventeen months along and just thrilled to be living in the second trimester. Her morning sickness had all but disappeared. She wasn’t so huge that she was uncomfortable yet her adorable belly was poking out over her still-buttoned jeans. I met another second trimester mama who actually had the audacity to admit that she was enjoying being pregnant. Actually liking it. Imagine that.

For me, I’ve never experienced the second trimester. My pregnancies start out in the first trimester like everyone else’s. I get all of the nausea and vomiting, bloating and gas, queasiness and exhaustion that comes hand-in-hand with the first trimester. The problem is that my first trimester doesn’t end at fourteen weeks like the baby books say it does. Instead, that my morning sickness and fatigue hang on for a few extra weeks, finally making their exit somewhere around twenty-two weeks when they’ve more than outstayed their welcome.

Of course, by the time I’m twenty-two weeks, I’m too huge and bloated and exhausted to truly feel the energy burst of the second trimester. Nope, I skip right over those rosy-cheeked glory days of pregnancy and go straight to my third trimester. Yes, I spend the last eighteen weeks or so of my pregnancy living with the third trimester bliss of impossible insomnia and a larger-than-life body.

Right now, I’m fifteen weeks along and praying that somehow this first trimester thing will end and I will experience the mythical second trimester. I know it’s a long shot, but maybe I’ll wake up tomorrow morning and roll over and not have to race to the bathroom to throw up. Maybe, just maybe, I’ll find the energy to chase my son around the living room for two hours straight and still throw together a gourmet dinner from scratch. Maybe. Stranger things have happened, right? I mean, I met a woman yesterday who said that she actually liked being pregnant.