My Granma dropped round with a present yesterday. Coincidentally it was the day I turned 18 weeks pregnant. Opening the bag and unrolling this teeny weeny cardigan stopped me in my tracks. Oh my god, I thought, as I started to cry, I’m actually going to have a baby.
Until now I’ve been happy about becoming a mum the way you’re happy about Christmas in the summertime. You know it’s coming but it’s way in the future and you have other things on your mind. First it was the nausea, headaches and tiredness of the first 14 weeks. Then there was the relief of finally telling everyone, showing off the scan pictures and enjoying everyone’s excitement. For the last four weeks I’ve been delighted to feel like myself again. I’m just back from a hen weekend in Puerto Banus with ten girls. It was wild in the way only a holiday with your best pals can be – and being sober didn’t make the slightest difference. If anything, I had the most fun AND I was always the last man standing! As you can see, I’m hardly showing yet, which made me feel less self-conscious.
I think the thing I’ve been most worried about, until now, has been losing myself. People are so judgemental about pregnant women and mothers – and even though I’m pretty much doing it by the book (married three years, own home, savings, close family, good job) I still feel the pressure. I don’t want to give up work or even really make compromises– it’s my own business and I’ve worked bloody hard to build it. I don’t want to miss out on the nights out or the parties – my friends are really important to me. I don’t want to lose the little quality time I have with my husband, who works 60 miles away.
But you know what? As I look at the hilarious photos from the weekend (sorry, I can’t possibly publish them) and as Rod lies with his ear on my belly claiming he can hear movement, I can relax. Sure, my life will change, but for the better, right? I’m surrounded by people eager to lend a hand, a husband who’s bursting with pride and excitement and I have full control of my working schedule… I’m a lucky bitch!
So I’ve decided to just go with it. I’m still me. Billions of women have coped with this situation – including my sister-in-law who’s about to pop with her third – and they’ve all managed.
I’m ready for the first kick now please wee one.