5:32 pm
I've decided to start writing a pregnancy diary for a couple of reasons: first, I would like to, one day, share these experiences with my soon-to-be born daughter and also because although I've been waiting for this pregnancy for many years, I was not at all prepared for all the changes that have occurred to me throughout, neither the difficulties that I have had to face during these past 6 months. I hope that writing about them may help me cope with those changes or at a minimum that it will help me put them in perspective. I've dreamt about being pregnant and having babies pretty much my entire life and having gone thru bad marriages and horrible relationships, now that I am with my soul mate, the love of my live, the person who I want to spend the rest of my life with, I honestly thought that I would be one of those happy-go-lucky pregnant women, those that once asked how "being pregnant is", "how I am feeling", etc. I would, with a huge smile on my face, give to those asking, one of those super happy answers like - "Oh, I am having a great pregnancy!" - "I am doing so wonderfully!" - "I feel greeeeeeeeeeat! - I am so happyyyyyyy!" - Ah, how I wish. In reality, I have been having a very difficult pregnancy: I started my pregnancy looking and feeling great and my body was exactly where I wanted it to be weight and looks-wise. John and I were having the time of our lives with a social calendar that would make any hip socialite super-jealous. I was also drinking more than I should, partying more than I should, and going out more than I should. We were having a fantastic summer when we decided that we wanted to try for a baby. Good times. Both of us had wanted to have kids for so long that it felt silly to wait and so we tried and in fact, we got pregnant indeed (I think we conceived on August 12th). In the beginning of this pregnancy, I honestly didn't know what to think about. It was not a natural process for me at 33, to find out that I had a little human-being being developed inside of me and that as a result, to have to make many adjustments to my lifestyle. My whole life as I knew it was being thrown up-side down. My body started to change. I went from an A/B cup-size to a D in a matter of days. My nipples, those little things that were rosy and cute, got large, dark and ugly - Oreo-cookie like, almost overnight. My skin got extremely dry. I wasn't sick at all during my 1st trimester, so I was pretty much hungry (and so I ate) all the time. I gained 15 pounds in 3 months. Oh and I couldn't drink my so-incredibly-cherished glass of red wine anymore without feeling at least extremely guilty (in reality and in all honesty, it took me at least five months until I didn't miss wine every single day). But all the above was absolutely nothing compared to the feelings and thoughts I've had during this 2nd trimester: the depression, the crazy thoughts that I can't help but have, the rejection, resentment, but most of all, the absolute terror that has become a constant companion of mine. This is where I start to create a log of this incredible journey one of which has been much expected, cherished, loved but at the same time so tumultuous and difficult. Here we go.
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