Time Flies When You’re Baking A Baby

I am staring down the barrel of a full term pregnancy and the main thing that floats through my mind—apart from the, ‘oh my God, I’m about to have a baby,’ part —is how quickly this pregnancy seems to have gone.

Counting a pregnancy in weeks seems to have absolutely shoed this pregnancy right along. I cannot fathom that I have reached the final month of what I thought was going to be the longest 9 months of my life.

I had anticipated that the first long wait would be the first trimester. Mr C and I chose to wait the entire trimester before telling any one—and I mean, absolutely no one was let in on the secret until after the 12 week scan. Trimester one flew.

The next, and most important pregnancy wait, for me, was when I would finally start to show. I’d heard it would take a while, and that was true. My first ‘belly spotting comments’ came at 19 weeks. That one was a long time coming but, really, it wasn’t long before I started to forget what life without the belly was like. How was I all of a sudden 19 weeks pregnant, when just yesterday I had been counting down the days to 12 weeks?

The next wait was the big 20 week scan—my final chance to see our little baby bumpkin, and make sure all was good. And thankfully, all was good. We decided not to find out the sex, and so began the guessing games and questions from friends. Girl or boy? Did we care either way? What was our preference? Was I having any vibes?

Next: the wait for trimester 3’s arrival. Right from the beginning, I considered this to be the big one. I thought that, once I’d reached the third trimester, in my mind I’d feel as though I was well and truly heading up the home stretch. But, no. Even now, at 36 weeks pregnant, I still feel I’ve got a little way to go before meeting bub. Erm, hello Miss Cookas? Get with the program already.

And somewhere along the line, my body went from being newly pregnant to well and truly pregnant. The thing is, my brain took a lot longer to cotton on. For instance, at 20 something weeks pregnant, I still saw myself as such a newbie to the club. But, why? God knows. I was more than half way there already. Time plays tricks on the pregnant mind, let me tell you.

Anyhow, the moral of all this is that next week I’ll be considered full term. And I really just cannot believe it. Soon, like, really super dooper soon, I will have a baby in my arms. It won’t be just me and Mr C any more. We’ll be a family of three. I thought it was going to be a long time coming, but no. It’s here. And it’s flown.


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