that wasn’t in the brochure….

Before I got pregnant, I thought I knew a thing or two about the joys of being up the duff. I was by no means an expert but I had witnessed numerous friends and family go through the process, so I thought I was pretty up to speed on what to expect when expecting. And I was. Except for a few little things that people had magically left off of the list….

Here are some of the gems that I have learnt along the way.

  1. medium_6832566733You’ll miss your vagina. Seriously, I haven’t seen it in weeks, maybe months. I miss it. I’m pretty convinced it needs some “tending to” (mental note to book waxing appointment asap)
  2. You might want to consider buying a dog. Much easier to blame those stinky farts that will haunt you for 8 months on a dog than a partner who knows it wasn’t him.
  3. You’ll share things with people like never before. Something about having a pregnant belly makes you community property. Not only will everyone want to share their story with you, but also towards the end, you find yourself having no concerns at all sharing your bits with whoever will listen. In the last couple of weeks I’ve had in depth conversations with other women about the state of my vagina and what is/isn’t normal this far along in my pregnancy – conversations I never thought I’d have.
  4. The boobs you always wanted might just piss you off. This was a real disappointment for me. I had always looked forward to the perks of perky boobs during pregnancy. But when I found myself carrying around a set of double D’s, they were no where near as fun as I had imagined. Disappointing for N too… am sure he’s been dying to play with them the whole time. Poor bastard.
  5. medium_2685851866Heels WILL become the devil. As much as I thought I was going to be “different”, I’m not. I don’t care who you are, being 8 months pregnant and wearing heels to anything other than a super special occasion is insane. I look forward to welcoming stilettos back into my life in a few months time but for now, they are the devil.
  6. People will touch you. A lot. Not only doctors, family and friends (all of which are fine), total strangers will have a good old feel around too. Stranger Danger has been a pretty constant issue for me.
  7. You’ll miss the simple things. Putting on shoes with ease, bending over in general, eating ham. Oh how I miss thee.
  8. It is possible to want to vomit AND eat, at precisely the same time. I was very lucky in the early days of my pregnancy and didn’t suffer a lot from morning sickness. But, who knew that at precisely the same moment, you could have the strongest desire to scoff a bowl of carbs AND throw up. Lucky for me, the carbs usually won.
  9. You will learn the meaning of true patience…. From your partner. Those poor boys. Seriously, I have a newfound respect for the patience of my man. Putting up with me for the last 9 months is something I wouldn’t want to do. Must remember to thank him for that with afore mentioned waxed vagina in about 6 months time. 😉
  10. You’ll pretty much be petrified the entire time. From day dot, I’ve been scared about something. The first few days were pure terror from the realization Fearfulthat there was no way in the whole world that I was ready to be a mother. The next 12 weeks were full of fear about being able to hold onto the embryo that I didn’t realize I wanted so badly. The next 6 months have been a constant balance of irrational fears about eating the wrong food, my baby not moving enough or in the right way, an upcoming scan and basically everything and anything to do with the health of this little person I am carrying. Then there’s the birth bit – you can read about the fear associated with that here.

The most valuable thing people dont tell you is that you are stronger than you think. Through all of the panic and sometimes uber uncomfortable parts of pregnancy, you’ll be fine. You’re tougher and more resilient than you ever gave yourself credit for. Mentally AND physically. That’s why women get to do this bit. Men would crumble.

What surprised you about your pregnancy journey? I’d love to hear from you.

Xx A

photo credit: <a href=”http://www.flickr.com/photos/i-am-rebecca/6832566733/”>i.am.rebecca</a&gt; via <a href=”http://photopin.com”>photopin</a&gt; <a href=”http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/2.0/”>cc</a&gt;

photo credit: <a href=”http://www.flickr.com/photos/chaparral/3333789812/”>Chapendra</a&gt; via <a href=”http://photopin.com”>photopin</a&gt; <a href=”http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/2.0/”>cc</a&gt;

photo credit: <a href=”http://www.flickr.com/photos/cowbite/2685851866/”>cowbite</a&gt; via <a href=”http://photopin.com”>photopin</a&gt; <a href=”http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0/”>cc</a&gt;

a little perspective

It has been a big week. Emotionally, physically and mentally draining, it’s been a week I would rather forget.

It was a week where everything seemed to pile on at once. Between the stresses of our renovation, living out of a suitcase, having a crazy busy time at work and the whole “being 7 months pregnant” thing, there were also some very sad things playing out around us this past week.

I’m not going to go into detail but life can be tragic and unkind. And sometimes it has a way of slapping you sideways, forcing you to think with a little perspective.

That’s what it life did to me this week. Gave me some much-needed perspective about what is truly important.

Lately, it has been far too easy to get wrapped up in the daily grind of everything that we have going on. So easy to loose sight of how lucky we are and how simple our life truly is.

I have found myself, over the last few weeks, becoming highly irritated and stressed about the most superficial of things. When will my shower screen be measured? When will my tiling be done? When will the driveway be free of that pile of sand? When that timber floor will be ordered? When will my to-do list at work get shorter?

who-fucking-cares

Really, who cares? That’s not what’s important.

In the scheme of life and all its trials and tribulations, the things that tend to send me into a tizz really don’t matter at all. The shower screen will get measured, the tiling will get done, the driveway will be finished and the floor will be ordered. It may not be in the exact time frame that I had expected, but it will be done, and it will be fine. I just need some perspective.

Nothing we are going through at the moment is hard. Nothing is truly a struggle. Hard is knowing that your wife won’t make it to March. A true struggle is burying your son before he had a chance to live. Our daily stresses don’t matter. None of it is important. Love and life and health and family. Those are the things that matter. That is what’s truly important.

This is the perspective that this week has given me.

So I’m giving up sweating the small stuff. I’m giving up wasting energy on worrying about things like the renovation schedule and my to-do list. It’s just not important.

I’m saving my energy for kissing my man and hugging my family and growing our baby boy. I’m keeping my mind free for that which is important.

I’m taking the time each day to stop. Reflect. Appreciate. Just how lucky we are and how simple our life truly is.

So to those people whose stories this week have forced me to look at my life, firstly, I am truly sorry for what you are going through. Nothing I say can make it better. I wish words were enough to take away your pain and sorrow so we could shout them from every mountain and make the world right again. But no words can fix it.

Just know that your stories have touched people. And hopefully made others, as they have made me, look at life with a little new perspective.

Xx A

my anti blog

I found my “anti blog” the other day. A blog by a woman whose journey could not be more different to mine.

Talk about polar opposites. This lady was the adversary to all of my ramblings. Her stories told how “at one with the earth” she is during her pregnancy and how her soul now felt complete thanks to the miracle of life growing inside of her.  

She was 8 weeks pregnant.

Call me cynical. Call me skeptical. Call me jealous. But I don’t get it.

In a way, I wish I did. I wish that I had the intimate and soulful connection to pregnancy that this woman obviously enjoys.

Don’t get me wrong. I am already enamored with the little dude growing inside me and can’t wait to meet him face to face. But I don’t think that my soul feels any more fulfilled now than it did 18 weeks ago. It feels fatter. Or maybe that’s my thighs?

It just goes to show how different every woman’s experience is on this crazy journey to motherhood. Some see rainbows and spirituality and soulful fulfillment. Others see the bottom of a toilet bowl and an endless supply of muffins. Not hard to figure out which end of the spectrum my experience lies.

Her blog has actually played on my mind a little. Made me feel a little guilty perhaps? Am I less of a “mother” because I don’t feel that same connection that she is already feeling? Does it make me less of a woman or less deserving of this little guy that has chosen us to be his family?

I don’t know the answers to these questions. I guess for me, that’s why im writing about my journey. Not just to capture this time in black and white words so I can one day see what I have learnt but to explore how different this journey can be for different women.

So, I’m going to keep reading her blog. Not to judge her or to compare myself to her, but to open my eyes to her journey as well as my own. Maybe her story will give me some insights into how the other half breed. Maybe her story will teach me to see this as something more spiritual. Or maybe it will just make me reach for that muffin and settle in for a chuckle.

Xx A

can I get a re-do?

I’ve been doing a lot of thinking the last week about the day we found out we were pregnant.  So much has happened since that day and it has been such a blur that it is only in recent days that my mind has had a chance to reflect.

Firstly, I think Hollywood owes me an apology.

Secondly, Son, if it’s the future and you are reading this……. Stop now.

The movies and all of the stories that I had heard, painted a picture in my mind that I had envisaged for most of my adult life. That romantic and blissfully happy moment when you see 2 little blue lines appear after weeing on a stick. According to that picture in my mind, it would be perfect. An embrace with your partner, tears of joy and utter elation that you had created life. A soft focused pretty little scenario full of rainbows and unicorns.

I didn’t see rainbows.

Our moment went more like this…..

Piss on a stick (as per numerous prior tests we had done due to my “lady problems”)

Walk away expecting, like always, for said piss to result in nothing but a bit of relief that we hadn’t miraculously gotten pregnant (and a touch of fear that maybe my lady bits were really badly broken).

Go to the kitchen, have a chat, almost forget about said piss.

Remember the piss. Go back into the bathroom.  See two little blue lines.

Have all blood leave my body and literally loose the ability to speak, function or process thought.

Somehow I made it to the kitchen to find N. Apparently I looked like some sort of catatonic tongue amputee who couldn’t breath.

I must have developed the ability to use sign language as next thing you know we are both in the bathroom, staring at a test that we had expected to go oh so differently.

Here’s where it gets emotionally quite confusing for me.  I had no idea what I felt. I knew I still couldn’t talk. Or breath. I also knew that I had never felt such terror and panic in my entire life.

As much as I had always known that one day, I wanted to be a mum, being faced with that little piss on a stick was unlike anything I have ever experienced in my life.

What do we do? We both asked each other when I finally found my tongue again. Neither of us had an answer. There were no tears. There was no romance. There was nothing but utter, primal terror. I think. I’m still not quite sure what to call that emotion.

I do know though, what it was not. It was not what I had envisaged it would be.

It makes me want a refund. I want to have that moment again. This time with tears of happiness and romance and utter elation. And a rainbow… a rainbow would be lovely.

But I cant. That was our moment. Thist is our story. Its not perfect or romantic., but its honest, and real.

I’m sure I’m not alone. I’m sure there are plenty of women out there who didn’t experience that fairy tale feeling about 3 minutes after pissing on a stick.

Personally, I think we should be honest about it. As awful as it sounds. This is scary really shit. For me, that day about 4 months ago was just the start of it.  I may have found my tongue and slowly learnt to breath again but that panic and sheer terror is still definitely there, every single day.

Maybe that’s what my journey to being a mum is going to be. Mostly terror and panic. With the odd moment of reflection thrown in….

xx A