Different

Quick update: Elsie is fully potty trained, and I am still pregnant.  Woo hoo!  The pic was taken a week ago at the beach in MA on another freakish spring beach day.  I'm bigger now and will take more pictures soon.

Now onto the post.

Sometimes, when I look at my daughter, I have to remind myself that she is a unique individual, completely distinct from me.  That should be obvious, but somehow it isn't.  Elsie is so much like me, in both appearance and disposition, that it's easy to slip into "mini me" mode when I deal with her. 

The resemblances started early.  In-utero, in fact.  The first time I saw that little chin on the ultrasound, I recognized it as my own.  Watching my daughter as a baby was like looking back at old picture albums of my tiny self.  Hub used to wonder if she'd ever look like him at all, or if I had just cloned myself.

Other times, he was happy to assign responsibility over to me.  When Elsie has a hungry meltdown or a stubborn tantrum, he'll turn to me and inform me, "she gets this from you, you know."  I do.  She gets her temper from me (and/or I, at almost 30, still have the temperament of a two-year-old).  Perhaps she gets her interest in flowers from me, too (she's memorized about 30% of our seed and perennial flower catalog collection).   She certainly inherited my chortle.  She's been cackling with her laughter before she could even talk.  Then I dress her in clothes that I like and cut her hair in a style I appreciate, and the impression is complete.  Mini me.

But Elsie is not I.

And this new baby is not Elsie. 

It's both completely natural and completely surreal.  The first time I saw this other little face on an ultrasound, I thought, "Oh my gosh, where is her chin?!"  I'm embarrassed to admit, I was actually worried.  I actually wondered if there was something wrong with her.  She has a chin, but it isn't my chin, and it isn't Elsie's chin, it's somebody else's chin.  It's THIS baby's chin. 

The pregnancy has been so different, too.  Women warned me about this.  "Every pregnancy is different."  But it's still surprising to live it.  Elsie's was a neat and tidy pregnancy, with morning sickness at the beginning, glowing in the middle, and getting big and happy at the end.  This pregnancy has been characterized by exhaustion, sickness, and pain throughout.  It's much harder.  Very different.

I used to "talk" to Elsie by pushing on my belly, and Elsie would always respond by rousing and kicking back.  This baby kicks a lot, but never in response to my prodding.  She marches to her own drum. 

When I was pregnant with Elsie, there were certain stretches I could do to relieve my back pain.  Yoga was my salvation.  This time, the same poses that offered so much relief in my first pregnancy bring agony, and I've had to stop doing yoga almost entirely because it exacerbates my pain.  Instead I swim and practice my meditation.   I am finally finding some measure of comfort.  Perhaps it was so slow to come because I kept trying to treat this pregnancy like my first one.

When she squirms her way into this world, this baby is going to make her individuality much more clear, and I know already that it's going to shock and astound me in ways that it really shouldn't.  Of course she's her own person.  Of course she's not just another Elsie.  Of course Elsie's not just a smaller me. 

Still, I have  to keep reminding myself.  This understanding does not come naturally for me.