At almost 19 weeks I’ve been starting to increase my baby organising. I take advantage of email coupons, so that I can buy expensive posh baby things on the cheap, I spend too much time researching products like travel systems and nappies. I bombard my mother with emails about things I have for the baby, things I want for the baby, and questions about things the baby might need. Life is quickly becoming all about baby.
The Media tells us, in various ways, that this is what happens. It comes up all the time by both parents and non-parents complaining that kids completely take over people’s lives. It comes up in the advertisements I keep getting to my inbox with all sorts of suggestions of what I need to plan for, think about, and worry over. I notice that, more and more, my main line of thought is BABY. The strange thing is that this obsession makes total sense to me and it doesn’t even bother me.
My future is a big unknown blank (or black hole as I style it in my more pessimistic moments). In fact chances are that if you want to really piss me off right now, you ask me questions about ‘the future’. The only certainty I have is that, barring a disaster, in about 21 weeks a certain little person will have made an entrance into this world. Compared to all the big scary earth-shattering questions in my life, Baby is something positive to think about. If you don’t want to talk about Baby, you could also stick safely to topics such as books I am reading, shows I am watching, music I am listening to, etc. You get the picture.
Not knowing how I will feel on a given day is another reason that Baby overwhelms my thoughts, because Baby is often the cause of me needing to cancel, or not attend, various social events. Pregnancy has shaken my world with its various symptoms of unwellness. Already I am more-than-heartily sick of hearing “enjoy this time” which for some reason is the response people think is appropriate to give any time I mention feeling ill or exhausted. This response is always given by people who are no longer pregnant. It’s like me telling a PMSing and heavily-cramping woman to enjoy those symptoms of their reproductive cycle. I love knowing that there is a little person growing inside of me, and I am thus far willing to forgive Baby’s habits of jumping on my bladder, pinching my colon, sucking up my air-supply. When I notice that my ‘bump’ has gotten bigger, I even forgive the days of exhaustion that usually precede this. But when I am in the middle of feeling exhausted, ill, or starving but unable to eat, don’t tell me to enjoy this. The most I’m getting in those moments is utter gratitude to God for my general good health, gratitude that I suffer because I am growing a life and not because my own physical health is failing.