Deep Breath, Strong Heart

And there it was.

Until I surpass my ninth week, a lot of the way I think about this pregnancy and therefore what I will end up writing here will have to do with comparing and contrasting this pregnancy with my first. In some ways, they’re very similar, like my sore breasts and blessed lack of morning sickness. In some ways, they’re very different, like my need to eat a whole meal every two hours this time as opposed to my need to drink a lake in one day last time. One striking difference happened last Thursday: my first prenatal checkup.

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So I’m Pregnant… Again…

Second pregnancy, all the rage.

The first time that I found out I was pregnant was a few weeks after Thanksgiving in 2015. My husband John and I had decided to try to conceive the following summer, but combined with missing him after being apart for a week and losing any of my remaining shits to give about the academic job market (which is abysmal and discouraging on the best of days) and finishing my dissertation (which I ended up finishing and graduating that May anyway), well, whoops…

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