It’s been nearly seven years since I gave birth to Holly. So to say I’ve forgotten what it’s like to be pregnant would be a bit of an understatement.
There are snippets of things I remember…. like feeling tired, desperately wanting to sleep on my front and feeling like I was about to burst. The stretch marks and bigger boobs… but mostly though it’s all forgotten in a haze of new baby wonder that you get when you meet this tiny little human and fall in love. You forget about the pregnancy woes because your tiny human has arrived.
So here I am again, a fair few years later. In the first trimester. And what a strange one it is. Filled with secrecy and doubt. The first time those two faint lines appear you wonder if you’re wrong, seeing things, can it really be? It’s a mixture of sheer joy, worry and wanting to tell the world whilst wanting to be super careful.
I found keeping the pregnancy secret tough. I wanted to text my girl friends and tell all our family but for a couple of months I felt like I couldn’t see my friends because they’d just know, and we weren’t ready to tell them just yet. Mike and I were in this lovely bubble where it was our news and we enjoyed talking about it together.
However, after week 9 and countless numbers of pregnancy tests, the two lines kept appearing and so we decided to tell our closest friends the happy news. It was lovely to have someone to talk to about it, to be able to share our joy.
It wasn’t just the secrecy and worry of he first 12 weeks that’s made it tough. I had terrible morning sickness – that lasted all day. Morning sickness should be renamed because as anyone who has experienced it knows – it really doesn’t fit its title.
I couldn’t even smell food without feeling queasy and despite trying to eat bland food little and often, I passed out at work when six weeks pregnant and so realised I needed help. My TA (who had to take over a maths lesson very quickly) and our school receptionist (who found me in a crumpled head in the staff room) were brilliant at keeping an eye on me while we got over this first tricky phase. It didn’t last for ever. Things got better around week eleven. Or what we thought was week eleven.
We turned up for our dating scan and there was still a huge part of me that worried something was wrong or that this was all in my head. So when the image of a perfectly beautiful, tiny baby popped up on the screen it was such a moment of relief and joy. Mike and I could have stayed all day watching the baby kick and roll and wriggle. The sonographer was lovely and so patient with us. Then he calmly dropped the bombshell we were not 11 weeks but in fact 14. We wouldn’t be having an early January baby as predicted but were given the due date of December 19th.
19th. Not only is this more likely to be Christmas, but my birthday is December 21st. My 30th birthday.
There will be no prosecco or parties this year. I think I’ll be rolling or waddling from place to place when my birthday comes around. Never mind. It’ll be a lovely chance to eat copious amounts of cake. Plus – Who doesn’t love a 31st birthday party? We can always celebrate the year after right? 30 + 1
I always hated having a Christmas time birthday and so do feel a little guilty, but we can’t exactly change it. Our bundle of joy (Molly or Max as they’re being dubbed for now) will come when they come.
It’s only two weeks now until the school summer holidays. I can’t wait for a bit of relaxation time. Time to enjoy our new house, stop working and bask in the pregnancy glow. Plus my feet are ready to wear flip flops for six weeks and stop being forced into work shoes
We’ll find out if we’re Team Pink or Blue towards the end of July. For now the options are open while we continue the journey through trimester 2!