So I was pregnant. It was bliss. After all that time...here it was.
Being pregnant means you get to tell people. Some of my favourite memories were telling Justin, my folks and my siblings. Everyone we told was delighted for us - my stong, self-controlled sister burst into tears of joy. We told our best mates because I stopped drinking and it was just too obvious - they all knew we were TTC and, rather than have them piece it together, we wanted the thrill of sharing. So our three sets of best mates all knew within the week. We knew that being pregnant didn't necessarily equal a baby but, I also knew, that if I couldn't hold on to this precious babe, I would need my friends and family to support me. So between five weeks (when we found out) and thirteen weeks we slowly shared our news with selected family, work mates and friends. When I hit 13 weeks and was still pregnant, the world was informed! It finally felt real.
Being pregnant means you get tired. Oh man, did I get tired. I spent about a quarter of the first trimester awake and the rest of it asleep - often in awkward places. Justin would pick me up from work and I'd be asleep in the car within a minute. I was tucking myself into bed at 5pm and not waking til 6am. If I was expected out and about I would be feral and Justin suffered many a tantrum. I think we both felt a hell of a lot better once my energy returned at about 14 weeks.
Being pregnant means you get scans. There was a bit of confusion with ours and I ended up going back to the fertility specialist at 14 weeks for our first scan. Crammed into the tiny scan room, legs akimbo, probe dancing towards me...and finally we saw a glimpse of Baby Mahony. I lied above - THIS was the moment it all felt real. On out third wedding anniversary we saw our baby for the first time - no better gift on earth.
Being pregnant means you get a bump. Eventually. Oh man, I couldn't WAIT to show! And it took aaaaaaaaages. I didn't have a bump until I was 19 weeks and even then it still looked suspiciously like fat rolls. By 25 weeks I had a gorgeous bump of which I was so proud. I adored getting HUGE, loved waddling, loved every kick and squiggle and squirm. Speaking of which - I didn't feel Cate until the end of my 20th week. I woke up and was lying still and bam! She did a big sommersault. Hello baby! I quickly told Jus and he placed his head on my tum...and less than a minute later, another sommersault! Justin felt our baby at almost the same moment I did! Oh the magnificence!
Being pregnant means you pee. A lot. I didn't get sick and, after the first trimester, I wasn't so tired. But, oh Lordy, did I pee. I was unstoppable in the first trimester as hormones raged inside me and, by the time I hit the final trimester, my bubba's head was firmly jammed on my pelvis. I had to go to the loo every 45 mins to an hour, 24 hours hours a day. I actually started getting MORE sleep once Cate arrived as I no longer had to get up every hour in the night, it was back to three hours for feeds - a blessed relief.
Being pregnant - well it was one of the best times of my life. I felt happy, healthy, beautiful, excited and the world seemed to be brimming with anticipation. Sure there were moments of grumpiness, hysterics, fear, trepidation, discomfort and even pain - but they paled in comparison when it came to the relief, the blessed, joyous relief that I was finally pregnant. And, as my pregnancy progressed, the realisation that, finally, we were going to have a baby.
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