We had our second appointment with the midwife this morning. It was more or less uneventful, which is probably a good thing. We got to hear the heartbeat for the first time, which is always nice (although somewhat less dramatic after already seeing the ultrasound). I’m right about halfway through the pregnancy now–we have three or four different “due dates” based on various methods of calculation–and all is going along well. I’ve gained just 7 pounds (~3kg), which was a bit surprising given that my eating habits have been less than stellar. Also, my iron is low, but it always is so I’m less concerned about that than the midwife is. She suggested that I double the amount of iron I’m taking, so I’ll give that a shot. At least she didn’t tell me to eat liver paste and blood pudding.

Pregnancy seems very ho-hum for me this time around, and I don’t know what to make of it. It comes from a combination of things, I suppose, but I’m finding that I don’t feel especially connected to this pregnancy. For some reason it came as a bit of a surprise to me when we saw the baby on the ultrasound monitor a couple of weeks ago, and again today when we heard the heartbeat. A fair amount of the time I forget that I’m pregnant (well, okay, I suppose that I don’t actually “forget,” but I’m not conscious of it all the time the way I was the first two times).

Before we left the midwife’s office this morning, she scheduled me for another appointment in four weeks’ time. Maybe now that I’m getting to the point of having more regular checks it will start to seem more real to me. Or maybe the lack of excitement is just something that comes with later pregnancies — I did enjoy my second pregnancy far less than my first, so it could well be that. If that’s the case, it might be enough to put me off the idea of a fourth one. (I think I could hear my husband’s and mother’s sighs of relief even as I typed that.)