Second trimester for the first time ever

Crossing into the second trimester was huge for me. I'd never been there. I'd been close a few times, but no cigar. Could still fit in my own clothes if the shirts were baggy and I skipped a belt. Melissa gave me her Bella Band, and I wore my clothes a bit longer.

Nausea kept me from eating, so I lost seven pounds off the bat. I was slowly starting to gain a little again.

I was afraid to buy maternity clothes. It was summer, so I was home. Didn't need to put on real clothes if I didn't want to. I didn't want to spend money and lose the baby. I'd be stuck with wasted money and clothes I couldn't use. My cousin and another friend also gave me some things. I bought some baggy shirts because I figured if it worked out, I could wear them until I lost the weight (Spoiler: it's still hanging around) or I could just wear them to be comfortable.

My dear friend Jessica got engaged and asked me to be a bridesmaid when I was what would be considered one week pregnant and she was six. Her wedding would be July 4. I met her to go dress shopping at probably three weeks pregnant without knowing it. She was eight. I ordered a normal dress. Her wedding would happen when she was 22 weeks and I would be 17, if I made it that far. If I made it, it would be so much fun. If I didn't, I didn't know how I'd get through her wedding.

The dress thankfully was a style that would work with me if I'd popped out a bit. It was long and almost empire waisted with room for ample boobs, since all four bridesmaids were busty.

I accepted the fact that she was pregnant and was happy for her. I love her dearly, but it didn't mean I wasn't hurting about it. When I found out I was pregnant, it was both exciting and terrifying with regards to this wedding. I didn't tell her I was pregnant until the week of the wedding.

When I went for a fitting at 12 week, I had to ask the seamstress to give me a slight bit of room. I was so afraid that if I lost the baby, I would not fit. But if I didn't say something, and I kept the baby, I also wouldn't fit.

The wedding was wonderful, especially as a pregnant bridesmaid to a pregnant bride. Always mocktails available, no unpasteurized cheeses, no deli meat sandwiches, half-caf coffee... and lots of salty munchy items. No crazy bachelorette night. Just a nice bridal luncheon and a shower with a tea theme.

I finally told her that I was pregnant while shopping for a dress for the luncheon and the rehearsal dinner. I'd procrastinated to make sure I could fit in whatever. I waited until my doctor's appointment for the week (more on that in a minute) to see that everything was still good. Then I shopped and told her.

She was adopted, and when I got there, her mom gave me the warmest wishes and the most understanding kindness. It was the first time, other than "my pen pal," who had losses before her daughter, that anyone was so accepting and nonjudgmental about my need to stay private. I do not know what her history was, and it was not my place to ask. My PP - I know you're reading this, and I hope you know how much I appreciate you.

At her rehearsal dinner, we took a back-to-back bump picture. It's the only one I ever took. I have pictures where I happen to be in there, but it was the only posed belly picture I ever took.

I regret that now. But I didn't want visual reminders if things went wrong.

Once I saw my doctor at nine weeks, she wanted me weekly, at least into the second trimester. The maternal-fetal medicine specialist wanted me if I made it to 15 weeks.

She and my OB/GYN are friends. She terrifies me. My doctor said she would because she is so thorough. But thorough is what I wanted and needed. They ran genetic tests that came back fine. They wanted to monitor me again for the growth scan around 20 weeks and again around 30. Once more after that, too.

The MFM would not do delivery. I would be able to have my own doctor. She's crazy and wonderful, ridiculous and has a Cajun accent. She talks a lot and never discouraged me. Not even once.

She also knew how I felt. Since I was off for summer break during the bulk of the second trimester, she kept me around and had me pop in once a week. I have so many ultrasound pictures as a result, but once we hit the halfway point and once I was regularly feeling him move, she let me come in once a week for peace of mind. When they told me to stop the progesterone, and that terrified me, she was reassuring without being condescending.

My summer was spent on the couch, for the most part. I also worked orientation week for our incoming eighth graders. I did not say a word to the two coworkers who also worked this week. The rest of the time was obsessively making sure I wasn't bleeding, reading books, and going to the two doctors. I eventually let my mom take me shopping. But I didn't remove tags until I wore the clothes. Everything stayed in the bag until I needed to wear it. Most of it stayed there until school started.

One day, my inlaws came to town because my brother-in-law and his wife were coming in for a concert. We had brunch downtown. While we were waiting for our table, they walked up. Hugs. Kisses. And then it happened.

My FIL reached out and patted my stomach.

I froze.

No one has the right to touch anyone for any reason. I should have slapped his hand. I should have rubbed his 400-pound gut and asked him the same question: "and how are WE doing?" But I froze. My husband did the best thing he's ever done.

"Don't do that. She hates that."

I've never loved him more.

It got uncomfortable for everyone. My SIL's eyes were wide with horror when he touched me.

I loathe his parents.

Don't touch women. Of any kind. Of any relationship to you. For any reason. Don't. Touch. Women.

I also went to a Bernie Sanders rally. It was awesome. He should have won the nomination. Baby's first political rally!

As summer wrapped up, I was nervous about going to work. Once there, everyone would know. For better or for worse, everyone would know. It was obvious.

At book day, a few parents were very excited. I don't know that all of the kids knew. None of them asked me about it, but mothers did. From that point on, everyone would know if something went wrong.

During teacher prep week, I didn't say anything, except for a few people. I needed to prepare those who would have to take over my millions of responsibilities if I went on any leave: either for grief or for maternity leave. My principal didn't understand why I didn't want to announce it and even passively-aggressively attempted to get me to say it.

On the first day of school, I wore a maternity dress with a cardigan. Cardigan to hide it. But dress didn't lie. I didn't say anything. I waited to see if the kids would.

My juniors were one of my all-time favorite classes. I taught them Louisiana history in 8th, English I as freshmen, English II as sophomores, and now speech as juniors. I also had most of them in at least one extracurricular activity. They are an amazing batch of kids I love dearly.

One of them, A, once asked another teacher if she was pregnant. She was not. She also wasn't married. Yet. So if that became a rumor, it would have cost her her job (because Catholic school). So she tore him a new one.

He was in the second junior class group, and when the first class came in and asked me about it, they were very excited and then mischievous. They thought it would be hilarious if they pranked him. They would tell the other group that I was pregnant, but no one would be allowed to tell A. They tipped off anyone in any grade who would possibly mention it to him. No one was allowed to say that I was pregnant to him. Then they decided to talk about how they thought maybe I was and how someone should ask. He refused to do it. The other teacher had him terrified. This went on for a few weeks. He not only wouldn't ask me, he wouldn't make eye contact with me. And as each week passed, I grew bigger and more obviously pregnant. They finally caved and told him. He was so relieved. It was hilarious. But boy, did they make him sweat.

I am the perfect type to be a teacher based on my ability to "hold it" all day. Suddenly, I was constantly in the restroom. It was a terrifying new development. There was a teacher, new that year, due the week after me. We had a revolving door to the faculty restroom. Everyone was so annoyed with us haha.

The previous school year and current one proved incredibly fertile for my coworkers and friends. But that's for another day. This post is long enough.