Hey there! It feels so good to back after the two week Best Of hiatus. I am getting larger by the minute and I’ve continued to weekly photograph my ever-expanding equator. My appetite is larger than it’s ever been, even, I think when I was pregnant with Isobel. I want to eat, all the time, vast amounts of cheeseburgers. I’ve been out to eat before and I’ll contemplate eating leftovers on the way home in the car. This is so strange to me because as someone with Crohn’s disease I typically can’t and don’t want to eat very much at once and am used to eating small amounts. I feel like the opposite of myself and Anthony keeps joking that I’m a guy now. It took me getting pregnant with one to be one, I guess.
I can’t remember exactly why I wanted to to take these maternity photos inside, other than I was probably too lazy to want to go out in the cold for photos that day. It’s especially when you consider this is a record-breaking warm and dry winter where I am in California, and I know I put that trench coat to go somewhere with Anthony that day.
Isobel was with Grandma that day (I do remember that) so Anthony volunteered to be in the photo with me. He always looks so nice these days in his collared shirts and work blazers, but funnily enough this is what he has to wear to recover from his shoulder surgery. He can’t yet manipulate his arm in a way that allows him to wear tee-shirts or sweaters–only clothes that button up the front and have lots of room to for him to maneuver in and out of. So he dresses up nearly every day as a medical necessity, and I get to have what I call “fancy husband.”
Anthony is a fantastic thrifter, and he’s even better than I am at finding clothes, so many of his shirts and pants are a result of a thrift store score. He’s even gotten a few blazers while thrifting, and recently we hit the jackpot when our friend Jose, who is built similarly to Anthony, passed on some of sport coats and blazers when they no longer fit him.
We must have been going somewhere nice-ish for me to be in the trench coat, but again, my memory has been lacking as all the blood normally reserved for things like focus and remembering things have been diverted to obsessing about cheeseburgers. I wanted to dress it up even more by adding some vintage jewelry, so I clasped on some favorite sparkly brooches from an estate sale I went to years and years ago with my mom. I can’t actually close the trench coat as the buttons won’t fasten anymore. The sweater and blouse I thrifted at one of my favorite haunts, the Catholic thrift store, and the corduroy pants came courtesy of the traveling maternity box.
As far as how I’m feeling, this kid is doing his best to rough mama up good. He’s constantly kicking and punching and rolling around. Isobel was active, too, but man, this little guy can be pretty painful. Add to this the pretty frequent, and usually painful, Braxton-Hicks contractions and backaches and I’m not very comfortable. My Crohn’s disease has been giving me issues and I can’t tell if Crohn’s spasms are causing the contractions or if the contractions, squeezing on my unhappy organs, are worsening my Crohn’s. As my aunt just said, this too shall pass, and it’s just something else to manage and deal with, like everything else.