I swore that I was not going to turn my log into a forum that basically tells people that I have no life outside of the fact that I'm pregnant but that's unfortunately what it's becoming. I'm not alone, there are a steady stream of mums-to-be telling the truth about this journey in a more candid and truthful way than you'll ever see in any book or on any TLC show.
I didn't go into this pregnancy thing with unrealistic expectations. A lot of people are still surprised that I am pregnant (you can see the shock on their faces now that I'm slipping into my eighth month). I said for a lot of years that I didn't want kids and at the time, that was always the truth. In the back of my head I had this list of stuff that had to happen before I would consider having a child:
1 – Student loans paid off.
2 – Own a house.
3 – Lose weight.
I think maybe that I never really believed all those things would happen (especially the weight thing) but one day I woke up wearing a size 12 in my modest suburban home and the only payments I was making were for my pony in the garage. In my early thirties, it was time to shit or get off the pot. Evil Scientist shrugged and said “whatever happens, happens. We are allowed, you know. We're married and everything.” He smiled and wiggled his finger to show me his wedding band as though I might have forgotten.
So we left it to chance and a couple of years later, the inevitable happened. That first pregnancy unfortunately ended in a miscarriage but it confirmed beyond a shadow of a doubt that we wanted a kid. My real shock in all this was how I managed to get pregnant again so quickly. The doctor told us to wait until November 2008. I was pregnant again by the time 2009 arrived.
I feel financially prepared and I think that being “older parents” (my official designation is Advanced Maternal Age) has its benefits but I'm well aware that no amount of planning can prepare a person for a screaming, pooping dictator to enter their lives. I am a colossal control freak so this whole process is difficult for me.
I don't have control over anything anymore. Heather B. Armstrong wrote in her book “It Sucked and Then I Cried” that pregnancy was like going through puberty all over again (check out dooce.com). No kidding, that's the truth. I cry for no reason and I have no idea how I'm feeling from one moment to the next. It's the stupidest thing ever. I'm an overly emotional person at the best of times but I thought that I'd learned to control it. Not so much.
I keep forgetting that I'm a pregnant person. My mother has been helping me clean the house in preparation for baby (which has been nice because to be honest, I really need my mommy right now). She kept telling me not to lift heavy stuff but I kept telling her that pioneer women would routinely lift 60 pound hay bales a day before they gave birth so I didn't see any problem with me lifting stuff. I also thought that this burst of strenuous cleaning, running up and down the stairs and lifting would be an excellent way to counteract my gargantuan weight gain.
As usual, it turns out that my mother was right (again). I spent Thursday night in the hospital while the nice people at the maternity ward made sure that Junior was okay. He was, in fact, he's doing better than me. I managed to strain the ligaments that are connected to the right side of my uterus. Imagine a groin injury that you can't take Advil and vodka for. Yeah, it's awesome. One of the nurses said it best as I left, “that'll teach you to push yourself too hard.”
I'll have to be forgiven for posting so many baby posts. The fact of the matter is that pregnancy not only has taken over my body, it's taken over my life and there's so much happening that continues to surprise me. It's not a bad thing though. When I think of this process words like “adventure”, “journey” and “mission” come to mind. I realize that millions of people do this every year and I'm hardly unique but I'm also starting to realize that everybody's foray into parenthood is different and that is what makes it so crazy and unknown.