They Shoot Horses, Don't They?

I once* read this book where there was a fire in a barn. It was a big, dramatic scene with everyone trying to save the horses. They finally lead out a pregnant mare. Things don't end well for that horse, but the author's description of her big eyes rolling up in misery and asking for help stuck with me.

That's how I felt today. It was one of those days where I felt huge and uncomfortable. The Braxton-Hicks contractions were relentless. Everything would trigger them: walking, moving, talking, sneezing, coughing, needing to pee, actually peeing. I just wanted to lay down on the floor and roll my big dumb horse eyes at someone to ask them to help.

The best part of this whiny, miserable story is that I'm only 24 weeks. I still have most of halfway to go. I'm thrilled to be pregnant and so excited about another baby, but, god, do I hate the actual pregnancy part.

This is the second time I've made it to the promised land of the second trimester, the "golden" trimester. Rumor has it that this is when I'm supposed to be glowing and feeling awesome and just in love with everything. Lies! Both of my second trimesters have sucked (this one less than the last, but still). With Liam, things got better in the third trimester.

I'm holding on to that on days like this.

*I've actually read this book about 15 times.