Ok, I have been keeping something from you loyal readers. On November 6, 2010 I ran a 10K benefiting Wildlife.
There it is. I feel better now. I'm sorry for not telling you sooner, but I ran the race for myself, by myself. I woke up insanely early, drove to a field in the freezing cold because the surly woman handling the registration told me in a thunderous phone tone, "BE THERE EARLY!"
I was there early, so early in fact that I was the first person there aside from the race coordinators. I sat in my car alone for an hour and a half waiting for the race to start.
I ran the race. It was cold. I kept my pace time. It was cold.
The run was more difficult than it should have been. The course was mostly flat, but I was sucking wind like some kind of Day 1 Biggest Loser contestant.
I had some suspicions about why the run was so challenging. When I got home, P and J congratulated me on completing my run, which I knew was going to be the last of the season because I am NOT a cold weather outdoor runner. I went to the bathroom to take a shower, and a test.
All I had to do was hold the ETP test stick in my hand and I swear that second little pink line appeared.
Positive. Confirmation that baby Phillips #2 was the cause of torturous run.
I am due in early July, which means at the time of this post I am 14 weeks pregnant and into the second trimester. The first trimester was full of puke and extreme fatigue, but that's a story for another post.
Parker will tell you he is going to be a "big butter" and sleeps in a "big bed" and he is a "big boy." I think in his mind these things are all linked because he spits out all these facts in one long sigh.
He knows there is a baby in my belly, but is not quite sure what exactly that means. Thankfully, he has a few friends who are about his age who are also going to become "big butters" or "big sissers" this summer. I feel like I should establish some sort of toddler support group for them all.
At this point, I have a few extra doctor appointments with a few specialist because of P's issues when he was born, but nothing I am overly concerned about. On February 10th we should know if we are expecting a boy or a girl.
We are excited about this baby, but as anyone who is doing this-again- will tell you, the excitement is different. I know what is coming. I am not blindly and naively picturing myself gently rocking a nursing newborn in my glider while quietly listening to classical music to stimulate the little one's brainwaves. My mind's eye is not projecting a picture of me running errands easy breezy style while my infant sleeps soundly in the Baby Bjorn.
I know this baby will take time away from Parker. I know sleepless nights, nursing (painful, merciless nursing), and explosive diapers are in my near future.
I also know those quiet moments in the middle of the night, when it is just me and the baby, the world becomes a magical place. I know Parker will be an amazing leader and supporter (maybe not right away, but eventually). I know this baby will add a new element to our family that will bring laughter, chaos and love. That is where the true excitement is found.