This week I’m posting photos of us all dressed up for a Christmas party, mostly because with the exception of today I have been in my comfy, DGAF pants (they give even less fucks than the leggings I’m wearing here) and two or three layers of warm, shapeless tops, comfortable enough for me to sleep in while I’m on ’round-the-clock nursing duty for post-op Anthony. I am exhausted. His surgery was very difficult but it went very well, which is as much as we could hope for in the situation we’re in. The incision is much larger (not too gross or graphic, in my opinion) than last time (just the faded scar). It’s just a painful surgery for a painful condition and we are doing our best to heal and roll with the punches. Anthony is in much better spirits this time and despite the pain is healing at a surprisingly faster rate than last time. He’s already moving around and is much more active.
Isobel actually picked out my outfit for the party, as she’s been in love with this knit sparkle sweater ever since she pulled it out of the travelling maternity box. Although I took several close-up shots, I could not get the sparkly gold thread woven into the knit top to show up on either camera. The sparkle subtle, but there, and makes this sweater feel fancy. The back has a lovely keyhole cutout that ties with a fawn-colored ribbon. I tried to get a photo of that, too, and didn’t entirely fail.
Isobel is wearing a vintage Christmas outfit from the 1980s that I used to wear. My mom brought it over this last summer and I’d been hoping it would fit for the holidays. If I can find a photo of me or my sister wearing it, I’ll be sure to post it. I put a thrifted white eyelet shirt on underneath the sweater because my child generates enough heat to be used as a space heater in winter, but she only ended up taking off her shoes, socks, and leggings at the party. The leggings were given to us years ago by Jen B and are so perfect for Christmas. Her Grandma bought her the pink sparkle shoes to match her official Christmas portrait outfit in which she resembles a glittery snowflake. I need to post photos of that session because it was glorious.
These next photos I’m posting exclusively because Isobel grabbed the sprinkler-turner-on-dealie and, in her words, “pretended to be an old man” with it. Note the faces and poses she’s making.
I’m still in my state of maternal bliss where I feel the need to hug and kiss and squish every child within a fifteen-foot radius of my belly, er, body. Same thing goes for Anthony and I became nauseatingly anxious while waiting for his surgery to be completed. I also find myself getting pissed off if Anthony doesn’t need me to help him because I want him to accept my care, dammit.
Really the biggest change I’ve noticed is that I feel OMG HUUUUGE all the time. I keep trying to explain this to my friends and I’ve realized that that description is lacking. It’s not so much that I feel huge, it’s that I feel aware of my belly from all angles and that is making me mightily uncomfortable. So when I think I’M HUUUUUGE what I’m really feeling I’M HUUUUUUUGELY UNCOMFORTABLE. It really has nothing to do with size, because I’ve felt more comfortable while I have actually been bigger. And, it’s sad to say, I’m only about 5lbs heavier than I was pre-pregnancy because I became so ill from Crohn’s and morning sickness that I lost quite a bit of weight. (Hence the thinking I was dying.)
Baby Elias is constantly either kicking me or dance fighting or whatever it is he does in there, and my while my bladder is not happy about it, the rest of me is. Isobel just keeps getting more and more excited, and I love watching her dote on other people’s babies or tell people, all on her own, that she’s going to have a little brother. I know the adjustment isn’t going to be easy or peachy or all sunshine and rainbows, but I have faith in her ability to love, and I know it will all be so worth it.