So the pregnancy books probably will toss off this amazing feeling as muscle spasms, my uterus growing, blah blah blah… but can I just say that I am almost 100% sure I felt her kick for the first time last night? At exactly 15 weeks. (and just a few minutes ago! She seems to be very active at night)
I’ve been feeling the other stuff for weeks, but this… well it feels like magic.
Every time it happens I silently go “Oh!” and smile, hold my small but growing belly, and think…
I can’t wait to meet her.
I felt Jenna move for the first time at 15 weeks too.
I think God knew I needed a happy lift after the pregnancy blues took me by storm on Friday evening. I ventured out to Target exactly one week after we found out we were having a girl, and I did it. I bought her her first something. Well almost first, since I made her her first somethings (the headbands). But regardless…
it was a big step.
Huge actually. I get tired of people telling me that everything will be alright. How can anyone possibly know that? They don’t know. I realize it is their noble gesture to rid me of my fear and help me enjoy this amazing, amazing little person growing inside.
The truth is I am struggling to find a way to curb these very real fears. Even though everything is going great so far. But ultimately I don’t want to have another pregnancy I barely remember.
Being pregnant again after Jenna for the first time was like nothing else. It was uncharted territory for me, and pregnancy was stripped of it’s innocence. I knew too much, and that kept me at bay for a long time when it came to bonding. Of course, any good mama will tell you it’s impossible not to bond, especially after hearing those heartbeats, and seeing them doing flips on the monitor.
When I think about my pregnancy with Bubby, it feels like a whirlwind and less like a beautiful nine month span.
I remember bleeding at 12 weeks or so. And the panic. The tears. The guilt. I thought we were losing him.
I remember being 28-ish weeks and sitting on the sofa with one of my dearest friends, Angela, and talking while my belly would wiggle. We’d laugh over his silly 3D ultrasound pictures and how one of them looked like he was laughing too.
I remember peeing on a stick and being filled with anxiety almost immediately when the pee stick read “Pregnant” within seconds. The one just a few hours ago (different brand, not digital) told me I wasn’t. But I knew… something was different.
I remember being amazed that I could grow a healthy baby. I had lost so much trust in my own body.
I remember the rash that covered me from head to toe, from the antibiotics at 30-ish weeks that had me looking like a spotted tomato.
I remember craving fruit. And sweets, oh my. I am not a sweet tooth (or I wasn’t in my pre-Bubby days), but I quickly became one with him.
Everything in between those monumental moments are a blur. I don’t feel guilty about it, considering how much anxiety and fear I was trying to surpress only months after losing Jenna. I was just so focused on getting him to viability so that there would at least be a chance. It turned out he would surpass viability and weigh a whopping 7 pounds, 5 ounces.
Since Friday I have been burning inside to do something. There are a bunch of things that keep me busy, but I want something just for her. I have this idea that I am working on, and I think it will help distract me at the very least. I hope to share pictures in the next few days if it all goes well. :)
Wishing you all a beautiful week xx
ps… I can’t tell you how much your sweet thoughts, comments, emails and prayers mean to me during this time!!