Today marks the start of week eight in my pregnancy, which means I have six more weeks until the first trimester is over. "I think I can. I think I can. I think I can. I think I can." I've found myself saying this over and over again lately. It's my first trimester mantra. This pregnancy has been much harder than my last one. And by harder, I mean, if I had gone through this in my first pregnancy, Will would be an only child. With him, everything was a breeze. I had the occasional sick tummy, but I never threw up. All in all, I felt really good. I was tired, but it was manageable. Back then, I didn't have another child to care for and I could go to bed at 7:30pm if my body told me to. I could pull my car over in a church parking lot on the drive home from work and take a little power nap if need be. This time, however, I don't really have that luxury. I have responsibilities. Dinner still has to be made. Will still needs a bath. Dinosaur puzzles need to be put together. Trucks have to be raced. Bedtime stories need to be read. And no, four books is not enough, Mommy! "I find another book." Insert pure exhaustion.
I will say this though, I'm very lucky to have a husband who helps A LOT. And the wonderful thing about Rob is that he doesn't look at it as though he's helping me. He looks at it as part of his duties as an equal parent in our household and he just does his share. He cooks, he cleans, he changes diapers, he sings penguin songs to Will every night. He's my hero. I've listened to so many of my friends talk about how their husbands won't help them around the house, and don't really participate with their kids. This makes me sad, because it does seem as though some men out there really still look at this whole parenthood thing as something that the woman should be in charge of. And if she happens to ask for help, there's a lot of moaning and sighing and acting as though you're putting him out. I love that Rob fits into the category of men who actually want to be a part of the process. And, of course, there are times when Will walks out and says, "I went poo poo," and Rob and I rush to yell, "NOT IT!" but all in all, we're in this thing together. That makes me know that having another child with him is not only okay, it's incredible.