We have a heart beat, and I am fully out to the world as a pregnant woman. In other news, today is the start of my second trimester. My pregnancy books conflict and say the first trimester ends at 12, 13, or 14 weeks. I choose to believe the first trimester ends at 12 weeks.
Until today, I’ve done well with avoiding stress. Even before we were trying to conceive, I began nixing commitments and situations that stress me out. Without going into too much detail, today was the day before the 40-page newsletter I edit goes to the printer. It’s usually a stressful time, but this time has been extra special, with requested changes and additional articles from the executive director coming in at 3:30pm the day before print.
Under normal circumstances, I would have sucked it up, skipped the gym, and stayed late. But as a pregnant woman, I know that whatever my body goes through, my baby goes through. At just 12 weeks old, my baby had enough with 8 hours of work intense enough to make me forget my ravenous appetite. I heard my baby loud and clear, “Let it go, Mom.”
I left at 5:30, did a moderate cardio session, and picked up pizza (a healthy version) on my way home to give myself the night off from cooking. I intended to listen to music and knit once I got home, but here I sit blogging, watching junk TV, and eating tortilla chips to stave off my appetite until the pizza is ready. Overall, I think I’ve done an average job at handling my stressful day.
My goal for tomorrow is to not react when things don’t go the way I anticipate. Every time I catch myself reacting, I’ll pause, remember my baby, and begin again.