35 vs. 25

My children's godmother, Sally, and I were having a conversation today about age. Age isn't suppose to mean a thing, but it sure does take its toll a lot faster than we expect. Everything isn't as taut nor is it as perky as it once was. Things droop and gravity takes its toll in places you wish it wouldn't, and the weight gain is easier and more permanent without regular exercise and a healthy diet.

I can't sit cross-legged without my knees stiffening up when I try to unbend them. I'm not as active as I once was, so all the flexibility I had when I was a teenager, active in Taekwondo, and the energy I had in my early twenties has literally gone to the wayside.

Sally wished she could have her thirties back, and I wished for my twenties. I could get 4 hours of sleep and get up to go snowboarding the very next day. I could study all night for midterms and exams, and I'd be alert and ready to ace my chemistry test or that history final (all in essay format) the next day.

Today, just like every day in the last 5 days, I've had morning sickness. It's such helpless feeling. I've also had a sinus headache that pounds the right side of my brain just behind my eye. The first two days of morning sickness were baaaaad, and I was surprised at how quickly my body was "adjusting" and making accommodations for the little sesame seed growing inside of me. What's worse, at 35, I'm more attuned to my body, so it makes this experience all the more excruciating. I don't feel like eating because I don't want to feel nauseated afterward, and I more than likely am nauseated from the moment I open my eyes in the morning. Nothing sounds remotely appetizing to eat, but I at least acknowledge that hungry feeling and force myself to eat when it happens.

My boobs throb in different places throughout the day, and they're even growing at a faster rate than I recall in my previous pregnancy. I feel winded, and I swear my back and hips are already making adjustments, because when I walk, I almost feel like waddling. But I'm only 6 weeks along, so the true waddling won't happen until the sesame seed is more fully grown and putting weight on my hips and pelvic area.

Last Thursday, I was sitting at home--nauseated--watching television, and all of a sudden I felt the urge to cry. It came from nowhere. I wasn't sad. The television show I was watching wasn't even depressing, but I just felt like crying. And I did. And I couldn't stop! It was so annoying. My husband was on his walk, but I didn't know how long he would be. I tried to stop crying, but I couldn't. When he came home, I cried even more.

He tried to comfort me and recommended that I try to freshen myself up to feel better. I did that (all the while crying), and I managed to snap out of it. Or so I thought. I told him I didn't know why I felt so emotional. Mind you, my husband's humor isn't for everyone and, at times, isn't for me. He answered, "Maybe it's because you're such a wimp." He was joking of course, but guess what? I was so incredibly butt-hurt, that I started my second round of crying. I was so upset! He tried to explain that I was joking. I ran to the bathroom and I closed the door. What was happening to me?!?! We bust each other's balls all the time! He was standing there when I came out of the bathroom, nose red and stuffed up, eyes puffy and still watering with tears. As scornfully as I could through my sobs, I said, "You--need--to--be---nice----to----me!----Waaaaaaah!"

I was sensitive to chemical-ly smells in my first pregnancy (like paint), both meat and vegetables made me want to puke in my second pregnancy, but I never felt like crying like this pregnancy has done to me! I don't think I had morning sickness this early either.

Perhaps I'm just super-sensitive (and a wimp), but I also know I'm no spring chicken, and I need to honor when my body is sick or tired or achy or uncomfortable. I don't have as much energy (already having 2 children) as I did in my twenties, and the idea of being sick for 3 months straight can be depressing enough without having to worry about laundry, and cooking, and getting the kids to school, and picking them up, etc.

Thirty five, so far, has been a monumental year. I got married to a man that adores me and my daughters, and I found out I was pregnant with my third child, his first. I celebrated my first Mother's Day when I was 25. My daughter was only 6 months old. I may not have more energy this time around than I did ten years ago, and my body may be ultra-sensitive too, but the one thing that having a 10 year old and a 6 year old has given me is experience (and later on, live-in babysitters).

With the help of baby center.com and my 2 previous pregnancies, I know what to expect (when I'm expecting). I know there's a reason why I cramp up sometimes, why my boobs are aching, and why I'm so nauseated. I'll know how to change a diaper (unless it's a boy, then I'll have to enlist the assistance of my family members who have baby boys to show me how), and I know how to make homemade, organic baby food. I know about schedules and how babies and children thrive on consistency. I may be going into this pregnancy with more days of morning sickness than my last, but I'm going into it with more knowledge of what is yet to come.

I'm excited. I'm nervous. I'm elated. I felt the same way when I was pregnant with my 2 other children. I guess some things never change regardless if you're 25 or 35, and the joy of motherhood is forever.