I've said before that most of my memories of my pregnancy with Cora are not all that pleasant. First and foremost comes to mind the day before my husband took me to the ER where I was formally diagnosed with hyperemesis. I spent the majority of the afternoon laying on the bathroom floor, since I was sick often enough that I didn't feel like continuing back and forth between the couch and the bathroom. I literally, seriously, believed I would die.
But there are happy memories too. Like the "big" ultrasound, during which she was sitting with her rump in my pelvis and the cord between her legs and she would not move. We could see her entire spine down to her tailbone, and each complete thigh bone, but we could not see her gender. It was frustrating, but we were so thrilled to have our baby pronounced "absolutely perfect."
Then there was the next appointment when my doctor snuck me into the room with older machine just to take a "quick peek" to see if we could see her gender. It took all of 30 seconds to see. I remember the giddy grin on Matt's face as he talked about having a daughter.
I remember endless rounds of push-you-kick-me, and looking forward to showers because she always became active then.
I don't have many memories like that of my pregnancy with Erin. I think I was pretty much a zombie during the entire thing. Besides the actual positive test, I don't actually remember the ultrasounds (and there were more, because of the loss) or the NSTs that I know we did. Between positive test and labor it's one big blur. I kind of regret that. But at the same time, since I get Erin and so many happy memories since her birth, I guess it's better that I more vividly remember my short time with Cora of the two pregnancies.