This morning I was reading that the baby has doubled in size in the last five weeks. Yes, I would believe it! It seems like again I have expanded exponentially and I am receiving the “Wow you’ve popped out” comments on a daily basis now. It might have something to do with progressing into the maternity scrubs at work but I think this is subtle denial as I am even struggling to fit into the ‘clothes that will definitely fit me for the whole pregnancy’ section of my wardrobe.
I am really noticing how puffed I am getting on my walks now. Any slight incline and I feel like I’ve run a km, huffing and puffing up the hill like the little train who could. Along my trek this week I was wearing my favourite Lorna Jane Never Give Up Singlet and I got to thinking about when I used to run these km’s around our house. One day in particular swirled around in my mind. I had just received the news that my progesterone level was non-existent and no, we were not pregnant. I was devastated. I had stupidly convinced myself we were, and had already started to cocoon myself into that blissful time of imagining what was going on in my body. It was silly to let my mind go down this track – the disappointment was gut wrenching, and added to this was the complete lack of confidence in my body and my ability to interpret its signals. I felt so let down by my body and so foolish as well.
When once I would have poured my heart into a bottle of wine and (shudder to think it now) a packet of cigarettes I decided instead to pull on my never give up shirt and pound the pavement. I ran the farthest I had ever run that day. I don’t know if partially I was punishing myself, flogging the hurt away, or just needing something to give my mind a break, but I ran and ran. I tired out the dog and had to get Todd to come collect him, but I kept running. I ran till it got dark and finally as I trudged home I was ready to simply talk to Todd and accept out news.
Now, puffing up the hill with my full belly bulging out of the pink singlet, I checked the dates. Less than a week after that run, unbeknownst to me, we had conceived. In the whirl of excitement I had never realised this before. Maybe that day I dislodged an egg or something. I think this is more a whimsical idea in my head rather than a medical possibility, whatever the case, I am so glad I never gave up.
Mum (& Nan) said:
I’m glad you never gave up either! Love always Mum