The first thing I do when I wake up in the morning these days is to press my hand against my belly and ask the little one whether she’s awake, too.
Usually she noticeably moves then, and I smile because how could you not? There is another human growing inside of me! It’s still a mind-blowing concept to me that she’s actually in there. My body holds two now, I am less alone than I have ever been.
But in truth pregnancy has been isolating as well.
I had assumed the opposite, I was so sure this would bring me closer to everyone around me, but maybe I was naïve. Other than my mother and grandparents not a single relative of mine has congratulated us or even acknowledged that there is a baby coming. The same is true for some of my more distant friends. No calls, no emails, no texts, not even a Facebook like. So many people who matter to me have been notable in their absence of saying anything. And their silence sounds deafening.
Even with the people who are close, (and there are still those luckily!), it has been more complicated than I thought. Jo has never been pregnant nor does she want to be, so I am left with trying to describe to her what it feels like, but I’m not always sure I do it justice.
It’s like everyone is on one side of a mountain top, looking at a normal, average sort of sunset. The kind that’s nice enough, but there are hundreds of them. Only I suddenly find myself on the other side of the mountain, and it’s storming there, strong winds are nearly blowing me over, dark heavy clouds, the ground rumbles, and the sky, oh it’s brilliant orange and violet beyond anything I’ve ever seen, it’s overwhelming and terrifying and gorgeous!
But when I walk back to the other side and I try to explain to the others watching the normal sunset what just happened to me, some of them say ‘well it was your choice to go out there, what did you expect?’ Others nod when I tell them about it, but their eyes glaze over after a few sentences. Even with the ones who try to listen, I can’t fully explain what it was like. I desperately want to but I can’t seem to find the right words to make them feel it, too.
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At exactly sixteen weeks and two days pregnant, I felt baby Sunshine moving!
I had been trying to feel something for weeks already, usually when lying in bed at night, pressing my hand this way and that, trying to feel the slightest of sensations. A few times in the last couple of weeks I felt like there was something, a buzz or tickle or a soft little shift under my skin. But it was so small that it might as well be imagined, and I just couldn’t be sure.
Until now! I was in the bath, holding a hand on my belly, when I felt the fluttering feeling in one particular spot. I kept my hand there, and it came back, I felt it again. And again. For a good fifteen minutes I could feel the baby move every few seconds.
It’s different from what I imagined, there is no discernible kicking yet at this point, it’s like a fish swimming up to the edge of a pool. Like gently moving some popcorn from one hand to the next. Small, barely perceptible taps. It’s like the tiniest elf is writing in Morse code on the inside of my skin. I wonder what she’s saying.
I felt surprisingly emotional feeling it. Someone is alive in there!
We have a secret to share *g*
Along with the NIPT test there was an option to check the chromosomes for the baby’s sex, and we chose to find out!
If we are to believe the old wives tales – I was very sick in the beginning, so that means a girl. We swayed a pendula over my belly, and it went back and forth, that means boy. I am mainly liking sweet things, that’s meant to be a girl. But my skin has been clear this whole pregnancy, so that’s a boy. One of those is probably right ;)
We waited two long weeks for the result, and then…
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I have talked a lot about encounters with doctors and clinics on this blog. We have experienced everything from the mildly annoying to the truly bad, but never have we had something happen quite like this! So, buckle in, and meet a seriously horrible gynaecologist…
Different from the last scan in the UZ, this was a doctor who comes highly recommended, one I was hoping to have for the rest of this pregnancy, so I was feeling optimistic when we walked into the hospital!
I was wrong to be…
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Oh thank god it’s over!
I won’t lie to you, the first three months of pregnancy have been hard. Horrible. THE WORST. I was on fourteen bits of medication a day at the end there. Trying not to puke up several of them each day has been quite the challenge.
I have felt like such utter shit. So exhausted, so worn, so sick. From the moment I started taking medications for the frozen embryo transfer in late January, I have not felt at home in my body. The puking definitely doesn’t help. I have a round belly, but the rest of me is bonier than I have ever seen it. Collar bones, shoulder bones, they all stick out. I never expected to be at my lowest adult weight ever while pregnant.
The worst part is that this whole pregnancy thing is supposed to be wonderful. We all know it isn’t really, but somewhere in the general zeitgeist, this is assumed to be the best time of my life. I walk into the pharmacy, saying “I am six weeks pregnant and I haven’t been able to hold down any liquids…” “Oh, congratulations!” “…right. So I need prescription medication…”
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