1. That time when I was driving Addie to school and I just got a little tickle in my throat. I only coughed a bit, just enough to clear my throat. But even the smallest cough is enough to set me off – soon I was about to throw up. I was in the middle of Chicago traffic and there was no way I could pull over. I considered rolling down the window, but I started getting flashbacks of throwing up out a cab window when I was 22 and I just couldn’t do it. Besides, I had my daughter in the car and I didn’t want to make any risky moves. So I managed to hold most of it down. And when a little vomit did come up, I swallowed it. Because I’m a grown woman.

2. Admitting to myself that I needed maternity jeans at ten weeks pregnant was hard enough. Then I effed it up. I decided since I’d be wearing them for so long, I deserved to get new ones (my jeans from last time are falling apart). So I spent more than I care to admit on skinny jeans from the overly-tempting maternity boutique across the street from our apartment (who thinks I’ll be going back too much?), only to realize the first time I wore them that they were straight legs, not skinny jeans. And now I can’t return them or afford real skinny jeans. What am I going to wear under my boots?! Yes, I know. My life is super hard. **Tiny violins**

3. Yeah, I cry every time I see that VW commercial and every time Marlin loses Coral and all their eggs. But come on, that’s pretty normal, right? Not so normal: crying at some distant friend’s cheesy Facebook update about her daughter. Crying at an article about the lack of Star Wars underwear for little girls. Crying at Humans of New York’s amazing Iran photos. The list goes on, but I think you get the point. I cry all.the.time.

4. Accidentally falling asleep on the couch while Addie was watching Finding Nemo (after weeping dramatically at the beginning) and waking up groggily when I started to hear strange noises from somewhere down the hall. Excellent parenting, I know. All the butcher knives were out of reach, so I figure she couldn’t have done that much harm. Pregnancy fatigue sucks, ok?

5. Taking Adeline to the ER when she woke from a nap with a 105.3 fever. She was red as a lobster and so hot I could hardly stand to hold her. I called the peditrician and they said, yeah, I should probably take her to the ER. So we hustled in and sat in a waiting room full of people clearly coming down with the flu, some of them wearing masks but most of them coughing and sneezing all over the place. Sitting there for hours, festering in germs, only to find out a fever isn’t really dangerous until it’s up to 108 (WHAT?) and that I should just keep giving her tylenol and it would get better. Talking to a friend later and she asked, “What about the baby? Was it safe for you to be there when you’re pregnant?” Oh shit. I’m pregnant. Yep. Totally forgot.

And that about sums up a second pregnancy. So far.