It’s been quite a few weeks since I wrote. Time seems to be just flying by now. The first trimester went by so slowly and I couldn’t believe that I would ever have a bump or feel you kick as strongly as I feel you now. You’re really giving me strong old kicks and I spend a lot of time staring at my belly, watching it undulate in weird humps and dips as you change positions. I never get bored of it and it’s reassuring to always feel you with me.
Mum asked me today if I was getting impatient to meet you but I’m not, not just yet. I know that you’ll be here in 10 weeks if you’re on time that is and then you’ll be with me forever. But while you’re inside me I can keep you safe so easily. And I’m scared I won’t be good enough or won’t be able to look after you and me as well as I want to.
Plus, I’m probably not going to be pregnant again for a really long time so I want to make the most of it and saviour this special time, because despite all the crap I have loved being pregnant. And did I mention I’m scared? Ha.
When you’re out I won’t be pregnant and fat, I’ll just be fat! But I know if I want to be naked with someone ever again I’ll have to stop eating custard creams in front of the Channel 5 afternoon movie. At least it’s winter so I can cover up while my uterus shrinks from the size of a basketball.
I have been freaking out a bit recently though. Really since week 28. The second trimester went by without me really noticing and all of a sudden I find myself at 30 weeks with only 10 weeks left of being responsible for just myself for the rest of my ENTIRE LIFE. Only 10 more weeks of living in the city, of doing pretty much what I want when I want, of seeing all my friends, of living with lovely Gem and only nine weeks left at work.
I’m going to be so sad to leave Handbag but one thing that makes me feel better is that the girls all seem to be leaving anyway. Em has already gone, Becky leaves in two weeks, Kate has been having interview after interview so that won’t be long. Tash is editor so we hardly ever see her anymore. Handbag just won’t be the same.
I’m going to miss Gem the most though, and my independence of course. It’s been six years since I lived at home and it scares me to go back and change everything about my life that I’ve chosen so far. Mum and dad are great and I know life will be all about you to start with but it’s just such a major change of lifestyle. I hope we can be happy and I know it’s not forever. We’ll have our own place someday.
I’m just feeling selfish about my life I guess. I never wish you away or that I wasn’t pregnant but it is kind of hard when my friends are leading such different lives. I can’t but feel jealous when they go out and are having a jolly old time at bars and clubs, dancing and drinking the night away. People do look at you strangely for being pregnant in the city. I guess getting pregnant at 25 is pretty rare around here.
I suppose I am also missing the affection and love of a partner. Although my feelings have really changed towards your father, I mean, I haven’t heard from him for seven weeks, it’s hard to like someone that can’t even be bothered to ask how you and I are in nearly two months. What a cowardly waste of space he turned out to be. But I can’t go out flirting or just end up having a great night with a new guy because only perverts pick up pregnant ladies, of this, I am sure! And my taste in men really can’t descend any further or God help us.
I have a lot of anger towards your father still. I don’t understand how anyone can be so dismissive of us, of me, of someone he apparently loved and his own child. We’re supposed to be meeting up in August, this week in fact but the ball is in his court. I don’t really want anything to do with him anymore. This time has given me the perspective to see that his treatment of us is not something I can tolerate or accept in the father of my child, we both deserve better.
The thought of being with him now actually makes my skin crawl. I want him to hurt, true but mostly I just want his involvement settled one way or another. Can’t believe there’s only 10 weeks left and he’s not even speaking to me. What a hero. I don’t think he even knows the date you’re due, I’ve told him but I don’t think it registered. I still don’t think he even believes I’m pregnant. I mean, he knows it but he can’t conceive what it truly means. I hope he realises what he’s missed one day. I hope it rips his heart from his chest. Somehow I doubt it but we’ll be just fine, baby.
Looking back now I know I felt bad that I was so scared and had so many worries about being able to take care of my baby but in the years since, with friends having babies and us all talking candidly I’ve come to realise, most women have those worries whether they’re married or not. It wasn’t me worrying more because I was single, all my friends said they experienced similar feelings of fear at being a good enough mother and also selfishly, missing their old lives once their much-wanted child arrived.
Planned or not, first born babies will change your life in a way that is practically inconceivable; you might know on a practical level what will happen but you won’t know how it feels until that baby is here. But if you’re finding it tough at the beginning, don’t beat yourself up over it, you don’t have to be a saint to be a mother. There will come a day when it becomes easier to accept that one part of your life is over and a new one, with lots of fantastic things to look forward to, starts.