Monday, 8 July 2013

11 weeks pregnant

11 weeks today – the magic 13 week mark is so tantalisingly close! This week marks the start of a 3 week growth period so it will be interesting to see if my appetite grows with it. Sticky is now the size of a fig and the vital organs are now fully formed. This means the likelihood of anything going wrong has dropped significantly, but not enough for me to drop my concerns.

Over the weekend, a few friends said “So, you’re going to start telling everyone now then.” They were shocked when I said no. Of course everyone expects that you’ll madly run around, shouting it from the roof tops when you hit 13 weeks. Some people shout it much earlier than that. But on the whole, those are women who have never lost a baby.

When I was pregnant with Peanut, I was ready to tell the world when I hit second trimester, but this time it’s different. This time I’m more guarded, more protected, more nervous. I still swing between feeling like everything will be ok and being worried it won’t be. I spend more time on the ok side, but still have my moments of fear. I just don’t feel ready to share it with the wider world because that means more people know. And then there are the scars I carry from last time – when people I thought would be supportive weren’t. Those are the people I want knowing least of all.

I did tell one friend today because I felt ready. I’ll tell the rest of my immediate group of friends in a few weeks. I don’t know when I’ll tell the broader Facebook world but I figure I’ll know when I’m ready.

A part of me likes keeping it to myself. It gives me time to get my head around the fact I’m having a baby, and to mentally prepare for it. It also provides me with the inner sanctum that comes from people not knowing. Once they do know, you cop all the stories, advice and comments that are meant to be helpful but can make you feel like you want to punch them in the head. There is a price to be paid for sharing your happy news.

But mostly, I’m just not ready. I’ve spoken about the need to buy new bras and new pants but I don’t. Not because I can’t afford it, but because I’m not ready to engage on that level yet. Yesterday, I was browsing an online maternity shop and clicked on some items to buy but I couldn’t send the request. I thought about what’s in my wardrobe and how I can make it work for another few weeks. I don’t want maternity bras and tops sitting in my wardrobe if something happens. I know I’ll need to let that go soon, but soon isn’t here yet.

It would be nice to be brimming with excitement to tell people but I’m ok with the fact I’m not. I accept this is my experience of pregnancy and it will always be different to someone else’s. I accept that my experience will be influenced by my miscarriage and I’m ok with that too. The miscarriage had both positive and negative effects so I’m grateful for both. And, I accept that some people might not agree with my decisions. I’m more than happy to say to them – “Come back to me when you’re 38, have had a miscarriage and you’re termed a high risk pregnancy and then we’ll talk.” People are so quick to judge without thinking so again, another reason why I’m quite happy being in my own little sanctum at this point.   

Image by David Castillo Dominici
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