wondering.
And just like that, I’m 18 weeks pregnant. Technically I’ve been physically pregnant for 16 weeks, but apparently those two weeks before conception count towards the final 40 weeks. That, my friends, is one of the many things on the list of things I had zero idea about before embarking on the adventure that is growing a human being. I’m so grateful for my midwives and their wealth of knowledge on the subject, as well as my many mom friends and my own mother herself. Everyone has a little something to add to the pool of ‘things to know’, and each nugget they offer keeps me from consulting the heartless beast that is Google-while-pregnant.
I wasn’t expecting for everyone (and I mean everyone) to ask me how I’m feeling — sometimes multiple times a day. I can tell the difference between the people who want an honest answer (Well since you asked, my left leg is numb, I have heartburn and I haven’t pooped in 4 days) and those who ask to be polite (Oh I’m feeling dandy, thanks!) with the latter happening the most often. Because who actually wants to hear about sore nipples and extra body hair? Spoiler Alert: Nobody.
I started to feel movement a couple weeks ago. I’m told that’s fairly early since bebe is so smol, but now that the movements are more pronounced, I know for sure that’s what I’ve been feeling. That, more than anything else, has me wondering about her.
As like, a person.
In just two short weeks we’ll get to take a peek at her again via ultrasound. I’m hoping we get a clear view of her face, but if she’s anything like her daddy, I have a feeling she’ll avoid the “camera” as much as possible. Regardless, each interaction we have with her is just one step closer to knowing her. What color will her hair be? What will her voice sound like? Will we get along? Who will she love?
Making a brand new human is sort of risky, when you think about it.
You take two perfectly imperfect humans and combine them together, hoping that the best of each shines through. But we don’t get to pick and choose. What if she’s incredibly stubborn like dad AND terrible at navigating like mom? She could end up lost in the middle of the woods forever because she won’t ask passing hikers for directions. What if she gets his overactive sweat glands AND my sensitive skin? I don’t even want to think about what puberty would be like for her. I mean, we could really be setting ourselves up to raise a disaster of a person. But then again, if she gets even a fraction of her daddy’s giving heart or mommy’s tendency to see the good in people, she might actually have a fighting chance.
Last night I was surprised to find out that Jesse has been having similar thoughts — less about what it’s going to be like to have a baby in a few months, and more about what kind of person she’ll end up being. What it will be like to navigate her teen years. How we’ll teach her how to be grateful for what she has. Which one of us will be her favorite (JK, we all know she’s going to be a daddy’s girl.)
And maybe most of all, we wonder about the space in our hearts she’ll take up. The pride we’ll have in raising her. The fear we’ll live with of losing her. Are we ready? Can we handle it? The thing that keeps me grounded in all of this is knowing that we were, in so many ways, made for this. My body knows how to be pregnant and bring her into this world. Jesse already knows how to be a good dad and I’ve had motherly instincts since I could walk. And even in bouts of uncertainty, I know without a doubt that I have the best person in the whole world to do this with. It’s fun (and terrifying) to dream ahead, but the great news is that babies come to us as babies and we have some time to figure out the rest. The years of us being in the throes of parenthood will come soon enough, and right now I should probably focus on finishing the nursery and getting in my daily squats.
We can’t wait to know you baby girl. I promise daddy and I are doing everything we can to be ready for you, but the truth is that you’re the first kid, and therefore an experiment. Hope you’re ready for the ride!
Love Always,
Sarah