I wasn’t 100% sure about writing about pregnancy on here.
I’ve written about pregnancy already, of course – BUT my blog posts about all things up-the-duff were written post-event, months and months after Ted’s arrival, when it felt OK and safe to be writing about it.
Now I’m pregnant again (surprise, for anyone who knows me and didn’t know!), I had to think twice about whether to write about it.
Super-sleuths may garner from the title of this post that I felt quite superstitious about pregnancy the first time around.
Not in a avoid ladders and cracks in the pavement way, but in a way where I didn’t want to talk too much about it for fear of ‘jinxing’ it.
I didn’t tell many people about my pregnancy, for example – family and a few close friends aside – until around 25 weeks – when it was getting to the point where they might have started suspecting, or otherwise thought I’d eaten too many hot cross buns.
My social media aversion was at full strength at that time too, so I wasn’t in the habit of posting bump selfies and scan photos.
I’m not superstitious in other areas of life.
But – like many women, perhaps – I don’t think I ever really believed that pregnancy and motherhood would happen to ME.
I’d left it late. I’d drank too much and I’d worked too hard and so to be pregnant without too much difficulty felt like such a massive stroke of immense fortune that I didn’t want to do anything to ‘jeopardise’ it. Like, er, talk about it ‘too much’ or announce it on Facebook.
I never said it was rational.
But it helped, in some small way.
It was one of the reasons that I didn’t want to find out Ted’s gender beforehand. I felt that knowing it would make me too attached (lol…errrrr hello umbilical cord) and that I just wanted to be SURE that he was OUT and OK before I allowed myself to think too much about the outfits he would wear and the adventures we would have and the name I would definitely call him.
On that note, I always found it very bizarre that people find out the gender and immediately name their child, and constantly refer to s/he by their name as if they’re already here. I couldn’t help but think ‘what if something goes wrong? How can you be so sure?’
Each to their own, of course.
This time around, I’m trying to be more relaxed from the outset. I enjoyed pregnancy last time, and definitely became less worried about ‘jinxing’ things as time went on. I just didn’t shout about it from the rooftops, or tell everyone the name of my unborn child (partly because we couldn’t agree on one).
This time around, we still kept the news to ourselves until a scan at almost 14 weeks, because there’s still that societal norm to keep early pregnancy shrouded in secrecy. Part of me wishes I could have been ‘braver’ to share our happy news even sooner. In theory, I agree with people who say we ought to be more open about early pregnancy, and about how common it is for things to go wrong (touch wood – see? Old habits…) in order to challenge the taboos that must make a horrendous time even harder. But it’s such a complex, personal issue.
For now, I’ll aim to celebrate our happy news without fear of the ‘jinx’.
So as of today I’m about 15 weeks pregnant. I’ve got through the first trimester, which was pretty similar to last time, from what I can remember.
I was lucky enough to have no morning sickness, yipppppeeeeeee – just tiredness and a few headaches that I’m still getting occasionally.
I wouldn’t say that I’ve been absolutely bone tired, which is how I’ve heard other women describe first trimester knackeredness.
But I probably could have kicked Graham out of the house and skywards towards the moon on a couple of particularly bad days, when he complained of feeling pooped.
(They really have NO IDEA, have they????)
My other main symptom is that breastfeeding Ted has become similar to torture, which is obviously not ideal – but I’m using it as an opportunity to start practising my hypnobirthing techniques again, and to breathe through the ‘sensations’ (i.e. hideous pain) whenever he latches on.
I’m not sure it’s working.
I feel much bigger much earlier this time; I can’t imagine getting to 25 weeks without telling anyone because I already feel GINORMOUS. I can still fit in my normal jeans – just – but many pieces of clothing are mega-tight already.
This might have something to do with the fact that my only craving has been to eat anything and everything in sight. I remember craving milk and cereal last time (how uninspired, eh?) and I haven’t had that this time around.
I also remember feeling very sure that Ted was a boy, and I don’t have a strong feeling either way yet, although that might come later. I expect it will be a boy, because Graham already has three sons and because we don’t have any boys’ names and sod’s law or whatever they say.
Of course it doesn’t matter; all that matters is that we are beyond grateful and excited. Yikes!
Bye for now X