This pregnancy is NOT going to be the same as the first one. I don’t just mean because I can’t sleep all day and spend hours reading surprising facts about first-time motherhood since I’m too busy chasing down the fastest 13 month old on the planet. It’s going to be different because I learned my lesson the first time. I am both older and wiser now.

1) This time, I will NOT put on my maternity jeans until I absolutely cannot fit into my regular pants without cutting off circulation and/or creating a permanent dent in Sandy’s head. And absolutely no cheating and switching to full time yoga pants before the 2nd trimester!

2) I will NOT give up on any and all forms of exercise as soon as I get the least bit tired around week 8. I will keep going to Stroller Strides, participating in play groups, taking the baby for walks and going new places to ensure I don’t end up a flabby lump on the couch. My thighs still haven’t recovered from the last pregnancy and if they rub together any harder the National Park Service is going to raise the threat of wildfire to HIGH every time I walk outside. (Edit: I wrote this post at least 10 days ago. This morning I’ve been hit with full time morning sickness that had me breathing heavily through my mouth through all of SS. I may have to switch to my nice wussy gentle prenatal yoga DVD.)

3) I will NOT suffer through horribly ligament pain or sciatica or whatever the hell it was last time that had me moaning and sleepless. If the doctor tries to brush me off or tell me it’s just part of pregnancy I will kick her in the teeth until she writes a referral to someone who can help. Even if that someone is a voodoo witch doctor who sticks twigs up my nose.

4) I will NOT buy thousands of dollars worth of baby stuff I’m never going to use or need (granted, I didn’t know any better last time). New baby does not equal all new baby crap. My old baby stuff isn’t even old enough to be out of stores. Although if anyone has some baby stuff they’re trying to get rid of (say a double jogger or some newborn size cloth diapers, I am MORE than happy to take hand me downs).

5) I will NOT let the internet or my pediatrician make me feel bad for any of my choices regarding pregnancy, birth, infants, breastfeeding, co-sleeping, etc. Although I might not make the same choices I did the first time I am making them on my own. If you’d like to offer some advice on juggling second babies while wrangling a hyperactive toddler, feel free. If you want to tell me how drinking this Diet Coke is going to cause my fetus to grow gills and a tail then you can suck it.

What did/will you do differently the second time?

My pregnancy amnesia is totally out of control. I showed up to my appointment today super excited to see my little jelly bean/gummy bear/sweet pea/other adorable yet oddly edible nickname for a fetus and instead I got a naked exam and a blob. How did I forget that early ultrasounds are done internally?! You’d think being probed like an alien abductee would stick with you but apparently my brain doesn’t find it necessary to hold on to that kind of information. Thanks for nothing BRAIN.

The good news is everything appears totally normal and right on track. We saw the heartbeat – ONE heartbeat – and the doctor somehow managed to measure what he says was the baby but looked like nothing to me. If the ultrasound wand hadn’t been jammed up my hoo-hah I would have been afraid he was accidentally looking at part of the peanut butter sandwich I had for breakfast. Although if a sandwich had a heartbeat that would be really weird.

Most boring ultrasound ever

Whaddaya know, I was wrong. THIS is the most boring ultrasound ever.

Turns out my super-tentative-just-a-wild-guess-who-really-knows-WHEN-I’m-due date guess was…right. Almost right. New due date: December 26th, 2010. I guess Christmas is going to be at our house this year, since I probably won’t feel much like driving 6-12 hours in the car while 40 weeks pregnant. I’m also hoping for a really punctual baby because, HELLOOOOO,  2010 tax deduction. I’m already having visions of the clock counting down the seconds to January 1st and E screaming “PUSH HARDER! DADDY NEEDS AN IPAD!”

We find out the sex on August 4th. Until then, I think I’ll call him Sandwich. Sandy, for short.

Baby Evan’s face is a pretty clear reflection of the mood I’ve been in this week. I’m annoyed at everything. I’m pissed no one ever responds to me on twitter. I’m sick of all the Top Best Most Important Coolest Prettiest Mommy Blogs Lists that require 4o bazillionteen votes and if you DON’T play along you end up in the loneliest most unread corner of the internet covered in mold. I’m tired of trying to write every day only to end up posting boring crap that even I don’t want to read. I feel like until I know this fetus is healthy and growing and alive I can’t focus on anything else, which is making me a lousy mom and a neglectful wife.

My first pre-natal appointment is tomorrow at 10:30 am. Hopefully I can be funny again by noon.

Considering my last pregnancy only ended 13 months ago, you’d think I could remember simple stuff like OMG DID YOU KNOW MORNING SICKNESS ISN’T JUST IN THE MORNING?!?!?! and SOMETIMES FOOD YOU USED TO LOVE IS SUDDENLY GROSS! I mean, I know am the first pregnant person ever in the history of the world but how come I forgot these things already?

Some stuff is new this time. Some really, really not fantastic stuff. Like how when the morning sickness does hit first thing in the morning I have to run to the bathroom to empty my always full  bladder (serious baby, how are you kicking me in the bladder when you are smaller than my finger nail????) or I pee myself a little when I throw up. Dry heave, pee. Dry heave, pee. Sneeze, pee a little more, just because it’s so much fun. I bet no one ever you told you THAT joyous bit of second-pregnancy news before. Congrats! You need Depends!

I don’t remember being this tired last time either, although that might be because I slept through my whole first pregnancy. I was like a real-life Disney princess, deep in an endless slumber,only wakened by true love’s kiss. And by true love’s kiss I mean bacon. It may also have something to do with the toddler-sized hell demon I chase after all day and still get up to feed at night. Possibly. I’m hoping I get that second-trimester energy back with a vengeance or nothing is every going to get done around here ever again. Bebeh #2 is going to be sleeping in a drawer for sure.

Also, although my scale says I haven’t gained any weight (although that was before the THREE cheeseburgers yesterday) the button on my jeans is already at Busting Threat Level Red. My “bump” this time is going to be closer to a “giant misshapen abdominal tumor” and I can’t even blame people for asking insipid questions like “Wow, are you STILL pregnant?” or “You’re due WHEN??????” starting around month five. My poor ab muscles have already given up and are on suicide watch. They ask that you please send candy. But not chocolate. Because for some God-forsaken reason, this fetus hates chocolate. Even thinking about the brownie I ate last night makes me want to throw up again. And I really can’t do that. I’m all out of dry underwear.

Although Baby Evan is named after his father (and grandfather), I couldn’t stop myself from picking out a few other possible names for boy children during my first pregnancy. Luckily, we don’t have a legacy to continue this time so I get to maybe use some of those choices. I’ve got a list a mile long for possible girl names but E and I have actually almost settled on another boy name – two names from my side of the family, one from my mom’s side and one from my dad’s.

Unfortunately, these two names would give Baby 2 some rather unfortunate initials. I mean, not unfortunate like A.S.S. or G.A.Y. or even D.U.M. but they almost spell something. Think of a specific type of hallucinogenic drug popular among dirty hippies during the 60’s.

There are two ways around this. One, we just name the baby what we want. How often does a guy use their initials for something? I don’t know the middle names of almost ANYONE I went to school with, except for the people who used them as their first names. Plus I don’t think these initials are terrible enough to really matter.

Our second option is just to add a second middle name. It breaks up the initials and gives him something a little bit special, which might be nice since Baby Evan has that annoying III after his name. My only problem is I really like the way the first two names sound and haven’t come up with another one I like as much.

At least, I hadn’t until my mother emailed me last week.

If you’re due Christmas day, she said, then I know how to solve the problem with the boy-name initials…

… His name should be Firstname Middlename Jesus Davis.

GENIUS.

And amen.