The not at all unpleasant blossoming of new life. Woo.

December 5th, 2011 |Published in babies, pregnancy | Link to this Post| 8 replies

So yeah, I kind of disappeared there, wasn’t there meant to be a huge wedding day post?  There was a good reason, bear with me, I’ll break it to you slowly…

I… got… knocked… up.

There!   Almost as painless as it actually happening!  I blame the media, full of horror stories about how we’re LEAVING IT TOO LATE, and no one wants to be 40 and discover that they have YEARS OF HEARTACHE ahead of them.  And then there was that doctor, or several doctors actually, who told me it was going to be UNBELIEVABLY HARD to have a baby, and there you have it, we decided that as we were clearly going to be doing battle with not only my reproductive organs but SOCIETY ITSELF, we should take the rain coat off and throw caution to the wind.

CAUTION, PEOPLE WHO THINK IT MIGHT TAKE YEARS BUT WHO HAVE NO REASON TO THINK THIS:  It might only take one time!  You might have vertigo and feel unwell but have a go anyway because THERE IS NO WAY YOUR BODY CAN MAKE A BABY AND FEEL THIS UNWELL.  Caution I say, because that’s all it takes, one thought and a quickie before you go to sleep.  You might think the only consequence is a difficult conversation about who has to sleep in the wet patch (never me), but you have NO IDEA about the FIREWORKS taking place in your uterus.

Go ahead, throw caution to the wind, but don’t say I didn’t warn you when you find yourself alone in your flat, staring at an unbelievably smug looking pregnancy test, while  riots rage in London and you start to feel sick with nerves.  Go ahead! 

But let me just say this.  Pregnancy is no picnic.  I’ll probably say it a few more times before this baby makes its grand entrance, but all those celebrities on the front of magazines talking about how they feel ‘ripe with the product of love’ (I actually read that somewhere, and then I puked up a kitkat), they are almost certainly lying.

I’m making it sound like it’s all bad, and I don’t mean to.  It’s just mostly bad, but there are good bits.  I’m just not one of those people who is likely to sit around stroking herself and feeling all mother  earth. I kind of hoped I would be, those ladies always look very happy, if a little creepy.  Alas, it seems I am destined to be one of those women for whom pregnancy is the trial which we have to get through in order to get a baby, it’s not a thing to be enjoyed in and of itself.  I’m ok with that now, I was disappointed, kind of devastated actually that I wasn’t wallowing in unbridled joy, but now I think it’s just one of those things. 

And you know, that doesn’t actually make me a bad person, it doesn’t mean I’m not going to love my child.  A number of well meaning people over the last few months have told me I’m wrong, it doesn’t suck, it’s MAGICAL, it’s WONDERFUL, it’s JOYOUS, and yes, the idea of it is, and the execution of it might be for some women, but not me.  That doesn’t mean I don’t want this baby, and it doesn’t mean I’m ungrateful, and it doesn’t mean I’m selfish.  My body is a melting pot of 1) extra arms and legs, which means I am uncomfortable ON THE INSIDE, and 2) hormones, which means John’s normally quite sane and stable wife cries every single weekend.  And these are not stoic, quiet, beautiful eyes shining  ‘Brief Encounter’ tears, NO, they are large, disgusting, snotty blotchy red faced ‘Blair Witch’ tears, usually accompanied by some hiccupping, and nonsensical outpouring of gibberish.  I swear the poor man thinks he married a 14year old Justin Bieber fan. 

Dear People Who Think I Am Wrong And That I Actually Feel Amazing: I would LOVE to feel… er… ripe with the product of love (seriously, is that not the most disgusting thing anyone ever said?), but I don’t, get over it, and good luck when it’s your turn.  Or have you been pregnant and would like to tell me I’m wrong, because you felt AWESOME?  Well LUCKY FUCKING YOU.

I am 21 weeks pregnant, this is meant to be the best bit.

Oh yeah, the good bits, I meant to talk about those.  Ok, here goes:

 I feel like I can separate what is happening to my body with the actual tiny baby inside it, and that’s a good thing .  I can feel tiny kicks and squirms and I totally, 100%, love this kid already.

Another good bit, John and I are super close at the moment, despite my weekly Linda Blair impressions, which is nice.

Another one, It’s made both our families unbelievably happy and excited, and for that I am thankful.

Another one, pregnancy yoga, not at all like regular yoga, there’s very little effort and a lot of relaxation.

One more, jacket potatoes are amazing and I can eat them to my heart’s content until this little person makes his or her entrance.

In short, I hate it, but I’m unbelievably grateful for it, and it’s all going to be worth it in the end.