I don’t need any convincing right now that I’ll not overly desire being in this condition again anytime soon. However, I do know in the future I will observe others in similar situations and perhaps longing will sweep over me.
Therefore, I do this for my future self and seek to get the lighting of this present day grass as accurate as possible so not to be skewed by being seen from the other side of the fence.
Rewind to the first weeks when it was a guessing and counting game, taking tests and wondering if the negative would stick or if it was just too soon. Finally, the awaited answer and new questions begin. How long before the new arrival gets here? Can we confirm general health yet?
The first few months involved terrible tasting experiences. Gulping or sipping, either way, I could not quench my thirst with plain water. I turned to juices and carbonated water, always over heavy ice. Avoided heated beverages for the upheaval they caused. Once, I desperately hit the walking path to keep from nausea taking the worst turn. Green veggies turned excessively bitter. Some spices seemed to lose my appreciation forever, and my sweet tooth seemed the only saving device.
As I rounded that hump of diet shifts, I finally received more than what sound radar could detect, and it was wonderful. I lay there, semi-reclined, watching the real-life version of Beauty and The Beast, and in a relaxed state by one of its many songs, a part of me sought inwardly, body awareness at half attention. Flutter, flutter. This wasn’t digestion framing my abdomen, but directly in the center, a new life breaking from my own and making itself known. Water welled in my eyes with the delighted laugh escaping my lips. Yes, it was real, true. My little miracle indeed exist and was growing inside me.
The second trimester moved on gratifyingly well, and eventually rounded the corner into the third. A month or so in, I could definitely admit I felt pregnant. The bulkiness had finally begun to hinder movements, made some motions cumbersome. I even waddle at times. Pizza had become a four-letter word but food commercials accompanying football games continued to make it look delicious, especially with my knowing how forbidden it was. Because in order to consume some, I must sacrifice an evening’s sleep to wrenching, burbling heartburn. My toddler would happily address the other ingesting woes as any good lover of gas jokes might.
Others might see my hand at my belly, stroking its roundness and think I’m marveling my condition. If I’m settled in that mindset, it can be true. Presently, I am verifying location of his head in the continued breech position as I ponder the experience and after-effects of the ECV for which I have scheduled later in the week.
Pillows multiply on my bed as the midsection weight requires more support. Otherwise my back muscles belt out complaints halfway through the night. Throughout the day, pressure and nerve jolts rattle involuntary gasps from me as I am prodded from the inside.
Seeing live images on ultrasound restore my knowledge of the tiny human beyond the unbelievably hard to identify bulges and curves that sometimes press out from under my skin and thinned abdominal muscles. He is the baby I know him to be.
Positive light to pushing through involves more than holding him in my arms. I wonder what color his eyes will be, and his hair, how tall–long–will he be? Will he settle against me peacefully or squirm about? Because each life is unique and has their own way of accepting the world.
This may be only one small moment in his life, and it shrinks each day, but to me this day is also my whole life, for a second can absorb all of one’s senses, intellect, and emotions, especially when one is excessively focused on it. Looking backward and forward allows expanded perspective and could help me stay grounded. As in, stop freaking out, Mom! There’s more hills and possibly mountains to come beyond this next little hump you’re about to climb. Know that but glance over your shoulder once and a while as you always keep one eye on your feet.