Monday, 23 December 2013
I was nearly three months pregnant in January and Hubby and I couldn't wait to let our parents, brothers, sister and heck just about anyone who listened, that we were expecting.
February and morning sickness had taken a gentle but strong enough hold to make me feel 'off' most evenings. My sister made a surprise (and very welcome) visit and I felt the first flutter of our little one - a movement that over the coming months would increase to turns and rolls and the start of 'Bump Watch' where I'd spend a few hours each evening just waiting to see movement.
March, April and May saw us celebrate birthday's, what seemed as never-ending visits to the OB and lots of planning. Oh boy the planning! Which crib to buy, stroller, car seat and what name. Choosing a name is the reason why it takes 9/10 months to bring a child into this world...and it took us practically the whole of my pregnancy to find a name.
June was a hot month and the hottest day of the year was when we had to move from our 4th floor apartment to the 1st floor (that's the ground floor in English). I held the illusion of being able to help Hubby. I insisted, he insisted we move the dining table and chairs where I would sit and take it easy. The fact that I had to stop half way up the stairs only carrying our little one wasn't a deterrent. Hubby was right...yes I've admitted I was wrong!
And then July. A devastating month, one which at times I still can't believe. I was nearing the end of my third trimester and whilst my thoughts flitted from names to strollers to wondering which Disney princess our girl would prefer; throughout I thought Mom would be there giving me advice, laughing at my worries and then calming them down. And even though I have an amazing set of people that I can speak with and friends have said talk to your Mom anyway, she'll hear you, there are times that I just need to hear what she has to say.
When we came back, August became a blur of activity - car seat arrived, crib chosen, confirmation of a pediatrician and the minor issue of finalizing a name for our little miss. D-Day arrived (that's delivery day) and my main concern was I had to have breakfast at 6.30 in the morning as there was a likelihood that I wouldn't be eating for a while. I could only have ice pops? Hardly filling eh... The anesthetist came in giving me advice on having an epidural. I was all, 'thanks, but I'll be okay.' His return look was 'a-ha sure I'll see you later.' After enduring nearly 4 hours of waving pain (they don't do 'gas & air') boy did I need it. Oh and one other thing, I became a published author.
The following months have been emotional to say the least. Joy, fear, worry, laughter...and the pure bliss that I've felt has been (and is) bittersweet. There are very few moments when I don't think of Mom and whether she would think me a good mother and be proud of me. Whilst I wish she was still here, I remind myself that she is at peace, she's no longer tired or suffering. My little girl has a few things that remind me of Mom and that eases the pain to know there's a little part of her still (physically) around.
As the little miss grows and changes everyday, as Hubby continues to make me laugh, as my sister is on her journey to becoming a mother, I'm grateful for all that has happened...the good and the bad. Life is for experiencing what it has to offer. It doesn't mean it will be all rainbows and unicorns, but just taking each day as it comes.
So, I'll raise a glass on December 31st and share a hug and kiss with the two most important people in my life and look forward to 2014 and whatever it has in store for me, for us.