I’m officially 27 weeks this week. Yep. Pregnant. Now that I’m finally coming to terms with it, I figured I should start writing about it. I haven’t exactly been the most enthusiastic about the entire ordeal, but every once in a while I scold myself and lecture myself that I should be happy that this has been an uncomplicated, healthy pregnancy so far. And even better, I’m having a girl! Exactly what I wanted.
When I found out I was pregnant January 18, 2013, I was less than thrilled. In fact, I yelled, screamed, cried, apologized to my dogs for changing their lives, and yelled at Boyfriend for ruining my life. This was never in my plans, I never wanted to have kids. Especially after my last horrifying relationship, I just figured it wasn’t in the cards for me. But fate, or God, or whatever, wanted me to have a baby, and they wanted me to have if with Boyfriend. There’s a reason for all of it, at least that’s what I kept telling myself. But it’s taken me this long to see her as more than an inconvenience.
Boyfriend was of course thrilled from the start, which looking back, I am so grateful for. But it was easy for him. He gets to sit back. I have to sacrifice my body, my favorite things, take a ton of time off work, possibly go on unpaid leave, figure out how I’m going to pay my bills, figure out child care and where I’m going to put her when I return to work, make a ton of important decisions like whether or not to breast feed. Oh, and then there’s that whole possibility of dying thing. Everything was totally on me, and I still feel like that to an extent. Luckily my family has been extremely supportive as well, so I’m not as overwhelmed. But I still am dreading what’s going to happen to me during maternity leave.
Throughout the duration of all of this, I’ve just sort of been going through the motions, but doing a ton of research to prepare. But a month after my first doctors appointment, I had a slight scare and had to stay home from work on bed rest for a day. I was then I realized I really wanted to do this, and would give anything to make it to the end with a cute little chubby chubster baby. Oh yea, everything turned out ok. But after that, I go to all of my appointments secretly terrified something is going to be wrong with her. At my very first appointment, I was sure I had AIDS and passed it on to my unborn child. Of course I didn’t, so then I fixated on Downs Syndrome and Spina Bifida. My baby had neither of those things, which I learned after I pestered my doctor enough times during an appointment that he actually went and got my file to show me because I didn’t believe him. Then I got a little obsessed with cleft palate and fetal alcohol syndrome. But every time I go in, Doc reassures me that she’s FINE. I fucking hope so.
I’ve definitely been trying to remain as normal as possible. I love proving people wrong, so after hearing a ton of horror stories about how I would have to kiss my heels goodbye and live in baggy, dumpy maternity clothes, I’ve managed to keep my heels and wear mostly regular clothes. I did have to cave in to the jeans a month ago, but I’m glad I did. They’re so comfortable! And they even make skinny jeans. I’ve also only gained 12 lbs, so I’m trying really hard not to explode. And so far, not a single stretch mark. I’ll probably live to eat these words, but so far so good dammit.
And just to prove that just because I’m pregnant I can still do things, I still work 40 hour weeks, sometimes longer with 10 hour days, still exercise, and managed to survive third row center at Bad Religion. I’ll also be seeing Face to Face Friday!
The girls at work are a little nervous for me. I’m not totally maternal, but I’m constantly making jokes about how vain I am or how I hope I can dump the kid off with a nanny, or how I fear I’ll ignore the baby monitor and choose sleep. I bitch about how unexcited I am and how I don’t quite love her yet, but in reality, after I’m done freaking out about the small stuff, I’m REALLY excited. I tend to joke about things when I’m nervous or unsure about stuff because I hate having to be so serious all the time, but I can’t wait to squeeze her inevitably chubby cheeks. And even though I’m still dealing with major trust issues with Boyfriend, I can’t imagine anyone else I’d rather procreate with. I feel her moving all the time, and it’s so freaky, but so cool. She usually doesn’t respond to much, but when I’m hungry it’s like she’s hungry because she goes crazy in there until I eat. I play a lot of music for her, which she seems to move around to. Gotta start her off early. Oh yea, she totally loves Snickers.
I’d better end it on that note, pregnancy has turned me into a crazy, raging, psychotic, fucking bitch. I can’t help it, the mood swings are unreal.