Five Months

Well, I am officially five months along. I wish I could say that the time is flying. Nope. Time flies when you're having fun, right? Being pregnant is NOT fun for me. In the least. I feel like I've been pregnant for 20 years, and will continue being pregnant for 20 years more.

Let me say, first off, that I am so, so grateful that I'm able to get pregnant. I have friends who have struggled in this area of their lives, and it is such an enormous, horrible trial. I thank Heavenly Father in my prayers every night that we are able to have children.

That said, I can legitimately claim that my pregnancies are enormous, horrible trials for me. I can throw that out there without any qualms. Every three or four days, I have little mental breakdowns where I cry for a few hours. I'm just so surprised that my pregnancy issues keep getting worse and worse, instead of better. Isn't second trimester supposed to be so magical? I've never experienced a magical second trimester. I cry and cry because I feel so helpless and frustrated and uncomfortable and in so much pain. And then I'm okay for a few days. And then it starts over again.

Sometimes I feel like I'm dying. Seriously. A slow, horrible death. Yes, that is a little overdramatic, but it's really how I feel. I remember a talk President Faust gave in '01 that said that all mothers go down into the valley of the shadow of death as they labor in birth to give us life. This is true. Ask my friend, Nyline, whose C-section stitches came undone a few days after her son's birth, exposing her INTESTINES!! She had to be rushed to the hospital. Can you imagine??? She could have DIED! I sometimes feel that mothers go down into the valley of the shadow of death while they're pregnant, as well. It's so awful. I really wish that I could go into a coma for the next four months. That would be awesome.

My mom asked me yesterday if I regret having gotten pregnant. Heck yes, I do! I regret it every time! But even if I could "take it back," I wouldn't. Heavenly Father told us to have this baby, just like He told us to have the others. I can't deny the promptings I received from him. Even if it kills me, I will do what He asks me to do. Always.

And I usually regret having the baby for about a week and a half, when I'm Crazy Hormone Girl. My friend, Cath, called me after I had Micah. He was a four or five days old. She asked what Micah was like. I told her, point-blank, that he was a huge butthead. She told me she was worried about me. I told her to ask me again in a week how I felt, and that it would be a lot better. She did, and it was. Once the weird hormones are gone, this is how I feel:

I found that picture online. It's so true. I go through hell to get my kids here. But look at them! They have their own personalities! They are these little beings who love me with all their hearts! They are running around and singing and laughing and just making my world so interesting and fun and amazing. I love being a mom. I really do. It really is worth it.

I'm just not doing it ever again. I'm done. I'm getting too old for this crap.

Here is Gage's most recent ultrasound pic, taken at 20 weeks:

Ben has decided that Gage looks like him. Um, okay. I don't know how you can tell that. He says that he can tell that Gage doesn't have big eye sockets like our other kiddies did in ultrasound pictures, which means that Gage is going to have his eyes. Whatever you want to believe, buddy. We'll just see when he gets out, eh?

We had another ultrasound yesterday. (For $150 per ultrasound, you would think they would give me a cute picture every time. But nope.) The ultrasound techs were like, "KARLENN! What's UP?" Like Norm on Cheers. I am that much of a regular in the imaging department of the hospital. Gage's anemia is still in the safety zone. My antibody count is higher than they would like, but they're happy about the anemia staying low. They were looking at his head, and they were all, "Wow, he's wiggly!" I'm like, "He is?" This baby feels wayyyy chill in the wiggle area of his life compared to his sibs. I feel like he's so far deep in there. I can feel him sometimes, but not that much. And Ben can't feel him on the outside of my belly. I told the ultrasound tech that maybe I can't feel him as much because I'm fatter in this pregnancy. She laughed and told me that I'm not fat. That was nice of her. But I know the truth. :)

Ben took some commemorative five-months-along pics of me a couple of days ago:

I look awful. I have never looked uglier in my life. I'm even uglier now than I was in sixth grade. And that's saying something. I never have energy to do hair and makeup, so I just slick it back every day. My skin has also never been this bad. Except when I was 21 and had to go on Accutaine. I'm not in a very good place, as far as self-esteem goes.



And I totally stole this next pose idea from Amanda's blog:

Awww. The heart on the belly.



Sorry our outdoor pics have been so overexposed lately. I'm surprised, because Ben has taken them, and he's Mr. Photography. I think he's getting lazy. I say, "Hey, will you take a pic of such-and-such?" And he goes and snaps it really quick and comes back inside to watch his stupid Vampire show.



I've been trying to teach myself photoshop. I know how to darken pictures a teeny bit, but I can't figure out how to just fix skin, as you can tell from the preggy profile picture above this one. And from my header picture. The shadow on Micah's face makes him look like Unfrozen Caveman Lawyer. I need Megs to teach me about photoshop. The "help" menu on Adobe - not helpful in the least.