Re-reading my last post about maternity clothes, it occurred to me that I perhaps sounded quite negative about this whole pregnancy lark. It’s not that I don’t like it, I just maybe don’t love it. The worry is CONSTANT, every other story in my Facebook news feed seems to be about some sort of birth related tragedy or near miss. However, when you take all that away, (and the ability to tie my own shoelaces), it’s not so bad and could be an awful lot worse.
To strengthen my PNPMA (prenatal positive mental attitude), here is the first of my favourite things lists, starting with my favourite things about being pregnant.
Food is pretty much one of my all time favourite things. For once in my adult life I haven’t really been worrying about what and how much I eat. Fitness fanatics amongst you will probably scold me but you know what, I don’t even care. For 15 years I have stressed constantly about my size. Pregnancy has given me a 6-9 month window of not having to worry about points, sins and calories, and my fitbit has been relegated to the bedside cabinet until further notice.
I was always a pass-me-the-cheeseboard sorta girl, but this daughter of mine seems to have other ideas and it’s all ice cream and jelly beans. Actually her nick name is Jelly Bean, based on the fact that jelly beans were about the only thing I craved in the beginning, other than mint humbugs and drinking yogurt, but ‘Humbug’ or ‘Yop’ as a nick name just seemed a bit mean.
Despite my previous post, and the fact that maternity clothes can be hard to find, the one item I was looking forward to being able to legitimately wear were maternity jeans. Having never being able to find jeans that would fit my legs and relatively slim hips versus my high and pretty much non-existent waist has always been a nightmare, so when I first tried on a pair of maternity jeans, HALLELUJAH! such comfort! I’m pretty sure I’m going to keep them around and bring them out on future Boxing Days and other high food traffic occasions.
Tom has probably been my most favourite thing about being pregnant, which is a good job really, seeing as I guess he’s going to be around for a while. He’s been amazing, looking after me, and hardly ever complaining about the fact that he ends up on the sofa every other night because I’m snoring, also he does way more around the house, which is a definite perk.
Although, in all honesty, my favouritest favouritest thing is seeing how engaged and excited he is about the baby, and how in love with her he is already. It makes my heart melt. God knows what I’m going to do when I actually see them together for the first time… ugh.
4. Public transport
This one is a little bitter-sweet, who wouldn’t like to sit down on the Tube while your fellow commuters stand in each others armpits, but I always feel a bit torn, slightly embarrassed when someone offers me their seat and then somewhat indignant when I have to stand up for 8 stops while trying to control the heartburn that is trying to expel my stomach contents or when my knees and hips have decided they are no longer friends with the rest of my body.
I never know which way to lean on this one, some people seem to feel quite strongly that it was my choice to have a baby so deal with it, personally, I was brought up to give people a seat if they were elderly, pregnant or just looked like they might need to sit down more than me, so people with young kids or carrying lots of stuff, but whichever view, Public Transport when you’re pregnant can be both a joy and a nightmare. Weirdly I’ve found teenagers and young women probably around 16-25 offer up their seats far more readily than men, specifically business men who-are-very-busy-with-their-very-important-business, and have found middle-aged women the worst, they tend to scowl at you then look back to their book as if, HOW DARE YOU BE PREGNANT AND MAKE ME FEEL AWKWARD, in fact, a colleague’s sister experienced a woman actually shout at her in the Tube once when she was heavily pregnant exclaiming “If you wanted a seat so badly, why didn’t you ask rather than shoving your stomach in my face!”. Nice lady. Also, the man who knocked me down the stairs at Aldgate station, he got the crazy pregnant lady waddling down the train after him, except I did that thing where you’re really angry and think you’re going to say something profoundly clever and put them in their place, but you don’t and you sound a bit stupid and then think of the perfectly scathing put down comment about half an hour later…
5. My Body
Its awesome… I mean, it looks like crap, but I’m so grateful to it for being able to do this amazing thing. The other week I noticed that my ribs had completely moved, which while being kind of gross is actually pretty amazing, but I’m growing a human, which while still makes me think of the chest bursters from the Alien films, is also deeply cool.
It’s hard to believe that just 26 weeks ago there was nothing, and now there’s a little person, who’s already fully formed and completely perfect, who already seems to have a semblance of a personality just by the way she moves or when she kicks, just simmering away gently in my tummy until she’s cooked and ready to meet the world. I’m in complete awe every time I see my belly move. Pregnancy definitely isn’t the bed or roses I thought it would be, it’s hard work, but I know that all the heartburn, Tube Twats, extra pounds, and ill-fitting clothes will be a million times worth it when she actually gets here.