It was my toughest pregnancy, by far. I ended up on nausea meds with my other two kids, but with Julianna, the morning sickness seemed worse. And the itching – oh God, the itching. My skin was so dry, and nothing seemed to help. I was contracting all the time, and I wanted to have that baby out more than anything in the whole wide world. I didn’t want to be pregnant any more. I wanted my baby, in my arms. I wanted to hold her and see her and squeeze her.
I cried more during that pregnancy. I remember sobbing when Marc would come home for lunch, and crying when he’d come home at night. I itched, oh God, I itched. I worried about how Jessie would handle it, I worried more about how Sammy would handle it. Sammy potty trained, and weaned during the nine months we were waiting for Julianna. He grew up so much, so fast, I worried my pregnancy was forcing him to miss out on some of his babyhood.
I just wanted to have my baby. I didn’t like being pregnant anymore. It was hard, I was puking all the time, I had to pee constantly, heartburn was horrendous.
So why am I all wistful and sad tonight? I look at Julianna today, in all her three year old glory, and she’s bright and beautiful and goofy and I can’t imagine what my life would be like without her in it.
I don’t know if I’m feeling sad because I want to have another baby or if I just miss having baby Julie. Because my girl is big and bold and so not a baby anymore.
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