Content Warning: Pregnancy fears, miscarriages
No matter which way I think about it I still can’t wrap my head around the fact that I’m 12 weeks pregnant. I acknowledge my symptoms daily but somehow they feel separate from the idea of an actual human being growing inside. I catch myself falling into old habits and then reminding myself things like, I don’t have to be jealous of every new pregnancy announcement, or that the names I’ve lovingly collected for years might actually be used. And still, it doesn’t feel real.
Part of me is still afraid to hope because I’m terrified of loosing Bean (the nickname we’ve given our baby). I don’t want to deal with the loss. I don’t want to see what could have been my child in clots of blood. I told my partner the other day that I’m afraid to know the sex of our baby because that would make it real and so much harder to deal with if we lost them. I don’t want to have to try again, wondering each month if it’s finally worked, and then counting down every day till we get past the lost one. Every twinge, every ache, each new symptom or departing symptom has me holding my breath.
I confessed to my partner in tears last night that I don’t like being pregnant, at least not this first part. I didn’t expect it to be easy or comfortable, or fun, in fact I keep expecting it to get worse. But the stress of trying to do everything right, while feeling like shit, and working and trying to stay on track in school, all at the same time has made things really shitty. I used to love eating and cooking, and I still do theoretically, but eating has become a constant chore. I feel like a black hole that gets more and more unstable when I’m not able to eat correctly. It’s not fun. And I hate feeling like I hate it. Especially since I’ve been waiting the last three or so years to be in this exact state. Pregnant.
Something about being honest about how I feel made me feel like a weight was lifted off my shoulders. I know I can be excited and just a little bit miserable in my body right now. It’s okay. I know I’m making the right decision every time I see how happy my partner is about it, every time I read a new parenting how-to-book, every time I look in the mirror at the growing bump. I can’t wait to hold Bean. I can’t wait to see my kiddo with my cousin’s kiddo. I can’t wait to be a parent.
Little Bean is as big as a lime right now, we’re half way through week 12 and soon I’ll be in my second trimester. I can already feel some of my old energy coming back to me. Hopefully soon we’ll be able to get an ultrasound appointment and be able to see and hear our baby. I know I’m going to feel even better then.