June 2016 - August 2016:
So… I’m pregnant. Now what?
It’s a crazy thing, getting pregnant. I won’t give you the whole, how does a woman get pregnant, explanation. Google it if you must… whatever you know, whatever you read, the common denominator is that pregnancy is miraculous.
So many women can’t get pregnant. For what ended up as just a few moments or so, I thought I was one of them. Just a couple weeks ago, I thought I might not be able to get pregnant. And in those moments, I decided that I was going to be okay with that.
I decided right there in that moment that I was going to be okay with not getting pregnant, with never having a child.
But, now I am pregnant.
It feels like I should be doing something. Something different, something substantial, something Mom-like. It feels like I should be feeling something substantial too.
The only thing I am feeling is the flu… but I don’t have the flu. I’m pregnant. I’m not throwing up - everyone talks about that like there’s no getting around it, just get ready to puke. I haven’t, not even once. But, I still feel like I have the flu. All day, everyday. I could lay down all day, and I am still tired. I am dizzy, lightheaded, I’m achy & my boobs hurt SO. BAD.
And trust me, I make sure my fiancé is aware.
Yep, I’m pregnant. I suppose I should be thankful for as awful as I feel, because at least I’m not having “morning sickness”, err I mean, at least I am not throwing up.
Ya know what’s annoying? That term, “morning sickness”. Who made that up? It is STUPID. It’s inaccurate. It is not reality. It’s dumb.
First of all, what does morning have to do with anything? Nothing in pregnancy is limited to any particular time of day. And what does one actually mean when they say morning sickness? Do you mean, have I puked? Well, no… but what about the rest of what I’m feeling. Doesn’t that count for anything?
Can we all just please stop saying morning sickness?
I’ve stopped drinking, of course. That makes me feel pregnant. I love wine. I have quickly come to realize how much I actually drink, on the regular. Wine everyday. I realize that more than not, I got to bed “buzzed” and more than I should, I wake up with some level of hangover. I never washed my face at night because the wine made me feel short of up to all of that. I have started a washing, lotion routine now - might sound silly to most, but I literally have never done this. Being able to go to bed 100% coherent and sober every single night has really opened my eyes as they close a bit easier and well taken care of now.
I keep looking at and rubbing on and paying attention to my belly. Like as if any moment, a bump will pop out, or I will feel some movement. The only thing I know is that I had double blue lines - well, 4 sticks worth of double blue “you’re pregnant" lines. I always wondered how I’d feel about the imminent belly growth if I got pregnant… my former eating disordered self has always been so afraid of how she would react. Well now, I yearn for my belly to grow. I yearn to see evidence of this growing embryo, of my sweet baby. I’ve never in my life hoped to wake up every morning hoping to see that evidence, my belly with a bump.
I called my OB the same day I found out - they don’t even care to see me for a few weeks. That just doesn’t seem right to me. Isn’t there something they need to do, or check, or examine. Don’t I need an ultrasound, or at least a professional pregnancy test, like stat?
Speaking of ultrasounds, they told me I wouldn’t get one until 12 weeks pregnant - this is when they start testing for abnormalities. 12 weeks?!? You mean I have to wait 12 weeks for any tangible confirmation that there is something really in there?! Shoot, perhaps there is more than 1 something in there… don’t we need to know how many somethings were having?
Oye - the anxiety!
After experiencing some very light spotting at the end of my 7th week, I fought for a “viability ultrasound” at 8 1/2 weeks. That term, viability… insert more anxiety.
Well, here was our little embryo - God Almighty, it is beyond words relieving to see the little nugget floating away in there.
I got to see and hear his little heart beat, of which has officially stolen mine. I wasn’t expecting to be able to hear a heart beat - hearing that pitter patter for the first time is indescribable. It is the first time of what I’m certain to be many, many to come that I Mom-cried.
It’s both emotionally relieving and overwhelming to think that little nugget is going to develop into a little human, and I’m going to be responsible for nurturing, cuddling and loving on him or her…
It feels real now.
Until I saw that nugget of an embryo, it honestly didn’t feel real. I just felt that someone stole all my wine and replaced it with the plague. Now, I feel like I am doing something miraculous, and the purpose and meaning of life has officially shifted.
I go about my days now with a constant connection to and awareness of this little baby. My baby. Boy or girl, I’m not sure what I would prefer. But, for my fiancé’s sake, I pray it is a boy. He’s had an overwhelming amount of female in his life - raised by a single Mom and the big brother to 2 sisters, lots of female family members who are always around. He has a daughter, currently 7. And now, he has to deal with me for the rest of his life. He seriously needs a little-man sidekick. He needs a partner to go shoe shopping with - he loves his sneakers, his “J’s”. I can see it already… matching J’s for life.