A week after my positive test, you’d think it would have sunk in that I am “with child.”
Granted, my body is absolutely on board with baby. I’m officially curvy, folks. Though I have always had a bit of a booty, it is usually masked by my strong-ass runner’s legs. A month of no running, my muscles have receded and now it’s just a whole lotta butt. My boobs have also gotten bigger, and feel totally out of control. I have to wear a bra now because otherwise I have no idea what they will get up to. When I get out of the shower, I don’t really recognize this body.
Other symptoms include constipation (woohoo!), frequent peeing, odd intermittent cramping, and what I’m calling Midnight Sickness. I’ve been waking up in the middle of the night nauseous… and with the overwhelming urge to pee. Obviously.
Yesterday, I was sitting in my boss’s office talking about generic work stuff. A colleague came in talking about some project, blah, blah, blah… I tuned them out and zoned ahead at a map of the world tacked up on the wall. Whilst staring at Russia, it hit me. Holy shit. There are cells multiplying in my uterus RIGHT NOW. Then back to our regularly scheduled programming.
Later that day, Mr. Ostrich and I were in the kitchen and he brought up the idea of visiting with his cousins the week after Christmas. The trouble is that there will be a ton of drinking and outdoor winter sports, both of which strike me as a bad idea at this stage in my pregnancy. I said I didn’t really want to go, and he asked “Why? We’re telling everyone by Christmas. They’ll know, so you’ll be fine.”
Enter the waterworks. I don’t want to tell anyone. Yet. Or ever, if we’re being honest about it. I’m still not sure this is real, so setting some hard deadline feels so wrong. I need time to let all this become real. And then I want time to enjoy this period for myself, without all the weird expectations that will inevitably follow when our families “know.” So how about 19 years from now? Does that sound reasonable to everyone?
Sometimes my brain leaps forward- to a baby shower, maternity leave, or daycare. Though I recognize on some level that those things will all likely happen one day, I don’t associate them with my life. Like when you when you see someone with an expensive car or a beautiful house. Nice, but clearly not for me.
Then there are those fleeting moments when I think to that picture of the four cell embryo that was transferred weeks back. It’s working so hard right now to turn into something bright and vibrant and entirely new.
And I think “Shit, how am I here?”