It’s been almost a year since my last post here, and my plans to spend more time writing in 2018 haven’t really gone as well as I’d hoped. But at six months pregnant, I feel like I can go a little easy on myself!
When I started telling people that I was expecting (at ten weeks in, being excited and impatient), I heard over and over again that the being pregnant time will just fly. “It’ll be over before you know it!”
At first though, time felt like it was going really slow. One thing that doesn’t seem to get mentioned much in mum blogs is just how much waiting there is in early pregnancy.
Waiting for cycles, symptoms and the right time to pee on a stick.
Waiting for a doctor to confirm that yes, the blood test does confirm that the three home tests you did are correct and you are in fact pregnant.
Waiting for the symptoms you see in movies to appear (I was lucky enough to not deal with any morning sickness or dramatic fainting spells).
Waiting for the first visit with an obstetrician to do a scan, because despite the symptoms and the pee sticks and the blood tests, it’s all still a little surreal.
Waiting for the “safe” time to start telling people (then deciding screw it, and telling them anyway).
Waiting for the “safe” time to really start getting attached, planning for the future, and tucking away the fear that statistically there’s a real chance that all those delicately programmed multiplying cells might not get a chance to manifest into a baby (this is much harder, and why I reasoned I needed people to know and to understand early).
Because my symptoms were luckily mild, ranging from feeling pretty much normal to a mild hangover level nausea and tiredness, my first trimester basically just felt like waiting. Unlike my usual projects, there’s no list of tasks (“what body part should I start on today?”), no way of making things go faster, no minimum viable product, no measures of success that are really within my control. It’s just watching my diet, taking my supplements, and letting my body run on autopilot. It’s weird and scary and exciting, but sometimes frustratingly slow.
Things have course picked up from there, and the bundle of multiplying cells has graduated to a being that makes his or her presence very clear by doing kung fu moves in my belly. I’m sure that once they’re out in the big world and our lives become a blur of sleep deprivation and baby smells, this quiet time of waiting will feel like it really did fly by. But for now it just feels like time is passing as it always has.
At first I was worried about writing about pregnancy (and eventually mum) stuff here on this blog, but what else am I going to write about here? Does anyone still read this blog anymore anyway?