I don’t know if it’s the pregnancy hormones or the Valentine’s Day propaganda, but lately I am so happy and so goopy with love.
I know, it’s terrible. I’ve become one of those people. Snow White singing to birds in the forest. Chirpy Pollyanna playing The Glad Game. Cheerful and bouncy Tigger. Believe me, I know it’s annoying. I get it. It’s hard to be “Shiny Happy People” when I’m typically all “Love Will Tear Us Apart.”
I never thought I would be this way. I remember sitting cross-legged by the exercise trail at Ohio University, blowing angry cigarette smoke in the faces of the joggers — they were up early, I was up late. I was so jealous of the life and health those people possessed, the way they faced each morning with joyfully pounding feet and vigorously beating hearts. Back then I was so depressed, I couldn’t imagine purposely propelling myself forward into the day when I was just barely hanging on.
Somehow that changed. I don’t completely understand what mysterious fairy dust led me to this place, but here I am. Happy.
I guess I’ve been much happier for years, the product of good friends, good books, living in a place with abundant sunshine, lots of travel and seeing a big world outside of myself. But this big love I have in my heart right now, like THIS VERY MINUTE? I think it’s the pregnancy.
I just love being pregnant. Love it. If I were younger, I would even consider doing this professionally. I love the fullness I feel. I love waking up to my husband’s smile and knowing that I’m carrying something we’ve created. I love embracing how wonky and different my body feels. For once in my life, I have zero control over what’s happening to my body, and it’s liberating. I love how pregnancy is a lesson in patience, because I just have to trust that everything will be alright.
It reminds me of when I was an avid skydiver, the way I was happiest and most calm during free fall. Because in free fall, I didn’t yet know if I had a problem with my parachute. I just relaxed into the sky and relished the sensation of floating, and it was magic.
Here’s how everything has been going this week:
The Husband and I celebrated Valentine’s Day with alcohol-removed champagne that tasted less sad than it sounds and homemade beet and avocado sushi.
Baby also did his first 5K! I carried him the whole time, though, lazy bum.
We did the Color in Motion run, which involves people tossing packets of dyed cornstarch everywhere.
Here I am with The Husband and our friend Wendy, before and after.
Baby: Somehow this child has gone from the size of a mango to the size of a banana, according to my iPhone pregnancy app. How is that possible? Who knows? I don’t understand it either. But I like bananas, so I am ok with this development.
Food: I’m not having any cravings exactly, except that I want to eat everything spicy and everything Asian. This is 100 percent normal, though.
Exercise: Lots of walking, plus that Color in Motion 5K. And swimming! I’ve rediscovered how wonderful swimming can be.
We’ve had some 90-degree days here, and the water has been warm and luscious.
I didn’t even realize the impact my new, round belly had on my body until I lowered myself into the pool the other day. The cocoon of water cradled me, held me afloat, and I felt truly weightless. I just glided through the water, anchored to nothing. It was glorious.
The water did make my growing belly seem all wobbly though, which was strange and funny.
It’s amazing. Who would have ever thought I could be so round and happy?