13 March, 2016

First Time Being Pregnant

My first pregnancy was wonderful. Or at least it was pretty standard. I loved the month that I shared the pregnancy secret with W. We talked about our future and I started eyeing the room that would become the nursery. At five weeks, I started getting morning sick. I only threw up one time, but I kept plastic bags in the console of my car just in case...
At work, I could not eat with the rest of my coworkers as easily because the sight and smell of some foods made me lose my appetite. Chicken was something that I completely lost my appetite for during this time.
W and I told my sister and father at around this time. They were both so excited for us. I did not want to tell anyone else, but those two are my other two best friends. They are supportive and could keep a secret. I did not plan on telling most other people until we knew the sex of the baby. (I am tall so I thought it would not be too difficult to hide.)
I made my first OB appointment for three weeks in the future. I researched OBs in the area for a week before settling on a midwife group located 20 minutes away. They were definitely not the closest, but they deliver at the hospital where I was born and I saw great review about them.
I hid the pregnancy rather well. I even had a sleepover with a couple sisters and a cousin. Even though I had to step around them at night to visit the bathroom and immediately start snacking when I woke up so nausea's ugly head would not show, I kept it hidden.
The entire time I was pregnant the first time, it was unbelievable. I used my second pregnancy test at six weeks simply because I could not believe it. Was my lifelong dream, one of the only things I ever wanted, unfolding? I knew I would not believe it until I saw the little undistinguishable shape inside my body. Then I could start to believe.
After I miscarried, W asked me if I secretly knew I wasn't carrying the baby. If I had a sense that it wasn't quite right. I never knew that it would not work out. I was just too elated to believe that finally I would have a baby to love. I would never be one of those moms that sits my kid in front of an iPad or the television day after day so that I could have no interruptions while I pinned pins and uploaded Instagram pics. I would buy books and read to my child every day. I knew I would get frustrated and fed up occasionally, but I would cherish every moment of being pregnant and of having a child to love and care for.

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