Enjoying Pregnancy

When I found out I was pregnant with baby two, I promised myself that I would try really hard to just appreciate this pregnancy without getting wrapped up in body image issues.  I remembered not really enjoying my pregnancy with Sara; it wasn't necessarily a hard pregnancy, it just wasn't super enjoyable.  A means to an end, if you will.  So I told myself early on in this pregnancy to just enjoy it and to revel in my changing body.

Well, I've tried.  I really have.  It's incredibly apparent - to me, anyway - that I just don't have that I-love-pregnancy-gene that some women apparently have had since the start.  Even though I understand the beauty of the reward this time around, I still can't say I'm really enjoying my pregnancy.  Most days I could really use a cold adult beverage.  And I don't love the way my body looks; in fact, I'm mostly just self-conscious about it.  Even after trying to convince myself to feel otherwise, and even though I really want to just relax and enjoy, I can't get myself to completely embrace this particular state.  And I can't decide if my feelings are ridiculous or valid.

This morning after swimming lessons, Sara and I ran into Home Depot for a few yard items.  It's true that I ended up with more than I originally planned to buy, but I didn't feel like it was anything I couldn't handle.  I was caught off guard when, as I opened the back of my car to unload the items from the cart, an older man came over from where he was putting items in his own truck and offered to help.  I told him I thought I would be okay, but then he gestured to his mid-section and asked, "Ma'am, are you...?"  When I told him that, yes, I am pregnant, he said, "You really don't need to be lifting these items on your own."  He proceeded to put all of my purchases in the car for me, and I thanked him for his help, all the while feeling a little helpless and silly.  But he had practically insisted on doing it all for me. 

I completely appreciated the gesture, which made me wonder whether I should just be milking this opportunity to sit back and let someone else do the work.  I feel like I sometimes have to remind people, especially at work, that I'm pregnant, not handicapped.  But since people tend to want to jump up to keep me from doing even easy tasks like picking something up off the floor, maybe I should just let them.  It's not really in my nature, but soon enough I'll be back to my normal self and the offers to help will probably stop. 

Now that I'm entering into the serious uncomfortableness of pregnancy, I don't foresee myself crossing over to the side of those who just love this state.  But perhaps I should at least allow myself to enjoy the perks.  What do you think?