The other night, around 3am, I realized the downside of infertility followed by pregnancy. What is it? Denial. I would say that the denial about what this pregnancy would bring didn't really start until the second trimester. I spent the first trimester feeling so gosh darn awful, that it was easy to believe there was something "cooking" inside me. Plus, like most women, I proceeded with caution, knowing that if something were going to happen it would very likely happen in those first twelve weeks. So, I was a mixture of "wow! pregnancy does not feel so good" and "why am I no longer nauseous? you better stay stuck little bean!". When I started to feel better it felt very weird. I pulled out my doppler no less than two times a day because without the all day gagging, I needed to hear her heartbeat to *know* she was still in there. During my second trimester I had 4 ultrasounds (one elective and three medical) and even though the ultrasound probe was on my tummy, it didn't truly sink in that the baby on the screen was inside ME. Yes, I absolutely loved every single one of those ultrasounds. And, no, they were not long enough...I could stare at our baby all day! As each week has passed by, I've fully expected the realization of what is about to happen to hit me. Well, it hasn't. Not fully, at least.
The other night? At a full 28 weeks pregnant? I got up out of bed for my nightly middle of the night pee run and as I walked back to our room, it hit me. The only way this little girl is getting out is if I give birth. The realization was so shocking that I woke MBL up. I think what I said went something like this, "Um, sweetie, I just realized that I have to give birth. Can you believe that?" His response was quite mumble-y as it was 3:00 in the morning, but he basically was like "Um, yep, that's what's going to happen..." The next day I walked around in a daze of "Holy crap, this might actually happen!! I might actually have a baby after this." I've been in denial this whole time. Holding my breath, waiting for the floor to fall out from under me. Waiting for something to go terribly wrong. And, while I know there are no guarantees, at this point it seems very likely that in the next 12 weeks I will give birth. To a baby. My baby. A baby that the hospital will let ME bring home. A baby for whom I will be responsible. Even as I type this now, I have a hard time believing it. I have the protuding belly that should serve as a daily reminder of that reality, but it doesn't.
When I think of how I get to be 79 days from my due date and still in shock that my stomach is jumping because of the human inside it, I feel uneasy. Most women get a positive test and fully expect that their life will be radically changed in 9 months time. At times I wish I could have that mindset...that a positive test equals a baby. Or, at this point, I would settle for my mind to accept that daily bladder punches and swollen feet mean there really is a baby in there!! Just today, MBL was feeling my belly and said, "Do you believe it now that she's in there?" And, without hesitation, I replied, "No. I don't believe it." Let's just hope that, despite my denial, I am able to get everything ready for this little girl before she actually gets here!