Second Trimester: The Return of My Appetite (and Sanity?)

Okay, real talk: the second trimester? A whole different ball game. I went from hovering over the toilet bowl to hovering in front of the fridge. The nausea eased, the energy crept back, and suddenly I didn’t feel like a walking zombie anymore. (Still emotional though. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.)

But first, let me get the worst part out of the way — because it was grim. Around week 13 or 14, I ended up in A&E with the most intense stomach pain I’ve ever felt (and yes, I’m including contractions in that). One minute I was out for a casual walk with my mum and grandma, the next I was throwing up on a beach. Cute, right?

A&E couldn’t find anything wrong with the baby (thank goodness), but I was still in agony, couldn’t keep food down, and basically turned into a human raisin. After a second trip and a lot of waiting, it turned out I had... kidney stones. Surprise! Apparently, this is weirdly common in pregnancy, which no one told me. I was given baby-safe meds and thankfully managed to pass them, because surgery would’ve had to wait until after the baby arrived. Zero stars. Do not recommend.

After that little detour through hell, things actually got really good. The second trimester felt like someone flipped a switch. I wasn’t sick anymore, my energy came back (hello, staying up past 7pm), and I felt a bit more like myself again — just with a growing bump and slightly irrational obsession with home decor.

Oh, and the hunger? It came back with a vengeance. I was suddenly eating anything and everything that didn’t run away from me. Chocolate trifles became a major food group. I was so sure I’d have weird pregnancy cravings, but nope — just extreme food envy. Even if I had my absolute favourite meal in front of me, I’d see someone else’s plate and wish I’d ordered that instead.

One time at work, I was eyeing up this stranger’s sandwich like it was a Michelin-starred meal. She noticed (because I was definitely staring), and I admitted, “That looks amazing and I’m so jealous.” And bless her — she actually swapped lunches with me. That’s the kind of humanity we need more of. Pregnancy privilege? Maybe. But I have no regrets.

The second trimester was full of exciting moments, too. Like finally starting to prep for baby’s arrival — choosing prams, picking nursery colours, and casually trying to redecorate the entire house because “what if the baby judges our living room?” (Pregnancy brain is wild.)

We didn’t know the gender yet, but Dan and I had names picked out for both. We also started getting everyone to guess: Team Pink vs. Team Blue. And honestly, I was so impatient. There was no way I could wait nine months. So we booked the gender scan as soon as we walked out of the 12-week one.

Now, I’d imagined this emotional, tear-filled moment where we found out together and everything felt magical. In reality? We walked into the room, the guy barely said a word, did a quick scan, and went: “It’s a boy. There’s his willy,” and carried on measuring things like it was the most normal Tuesday ever. I was expecting tears — and instead, I cried with laughter. Not what I’d pictured, but honestly? It’s one of my favourite memories now.

Dan didn’t say much at first after the scan, just kept smiling this sort of stunned, goofy smile. Later, he admitted he hadn’t heard a word the sonographer said after “there’s his willy” — his brain just froze in place like “I’m having a son.”

We told our families with cupcakes — classic, I know. I had both pink and blue icing ready, just in case. Everyone bit in and saw the blue middle. Cheers, hugs, excited squeals. Then we went to our favourite restaurant and celebrated our baby boy in style, with a chicken tikka masala and a nan bread.

Another major milestone? The kicks. The very first flutter felt like something out of a sci-fi film. I was sitting at the dining table after a meeting and suddenly — there it was. Not gas, not imagination. Just this surreal little nudge from inside. I called Dan, nearly in tears, and he came flying down the stairs like we were going into labour.

I tried to explain the feeling to him, but honestly, it’s impossible. You want them to know what it’s like, but you also kind of love that it’s this secret little connection between you and baby — just for now.

That first kick made everything shift. I went from “this is happening” to “this is him.” A real, wriggly person. And somehow, it made all the worrying and googling and weird dreams suddenly feel... worth it.

Of course, eventually Dan did feel the kicks. First time? Right to the head. He was resting on my belly and got properly booted. Baby has been doing somersaults ever since. Definitely takes after me — always moving, never quiet.

Now, let’s talk about symptoms no one warns you about. Leaky boobs? Yep, that’s a thing. I woke up one morning and thought I’d sweat through my shirt, only to realise... nope. Boob leak. Full-on dairy cow vibes. And then there’s the fun world of discharge. I spent way too many mornings doing emergency bathroom checks thinking I was bleeding, only to find out, nope — just your body doing more weird things no one talks about.

Honestly, pregnancy is just one surprise after another. Looking back, the second trimester felt like the calm before the chaos — this sweet, hopeful middle ground where things started to feel real. I wasn’t just pregnant, I was preparing to meet someone. Someone I already loved more than I thought was possible.

But here’s the thing: even with the kidney stones, boob leaks, and furniture-obsessed nesting, the second trimester felt hopeful. I could imagine the baby now. I could feel him. I wasn’t just surviving — I was connecting. The second trimester gave me space to breathe. To realise there’s so much joy in watching this little life slowly become part of ours.

And that? That made all the difference.