Wishing away the days.
That’s what waiting for a baby is like. And the pity of it is that every day I’m only one day closer to meeting my beautiful little baby. It’s like waiting for water to boil. For 9 months.
But, rather than lamenting the fact that time is beginning to drag, I’ve decided to embrace the moments. Pregnancy is an amazing time. I don’t want to wish it away.
Now that I’m nearly 17 weeks, bump watch is getting to be a bit like an episode of Days of our lives. Most every day seems to be the same old thing. I wake up in the morning, say hello to my teeny tiny belly and then, just before I go to bed, I look to see if the bump has grown. And I’m sure it’s growing. But it’s hard to see a difference when you study it, in detail, every single day.
One of the other marvels that pregnancy has gifted me of late is: I can feel my baby moving. I can actually feel my baby inside of me, and it—is—so –cool. The little pokes began at 15 and half weeks. At first, I put it down to gas. Now though, I know it’s my baby.
Once again, I seem to be dispelling all the pregnancy myths. There have been none of the gentle swirling, fluttering feelings that ‘quickening’ is usually described as. This baby is actually kicking me. Or punching me. Or head butting me. I’m not too sure. It feels like a finger is softly jabbing me from the inside. Usually, there is one jab; sometimes two. And then it’s over.
These are the things that I don’t want to wish away. I may never be lucky enough to feel all this again. Certainly after Baby C, I do hope for more children. But you never know.
So this is my pledge. I will embrace the water that is boiling ever so slowly.
And the baby at the end is going to be the most beautifully boiled egg in the whole world.