March 24, 2013

New beginnings

Sometimes I am a little overwhelmed by the furious pace of time. That my twenties have dissolved like a pair of disprin. But I am grateful for these moments too because it means I stop and breathe and look around.

I look at John just that little bit closer and memorise the profile of his face or touch him to soak up the warmth of his skin.

Or I look around at our 75m2 two bedroom 80 year old cottage that one day hopes to grow up to be a three bedroom home without the flaking lead paint on the walls (and the inclusion of a bath!) and feel like we are the luckiest people in the world.

Sometimes I notice myself hanging out the washing at our hills hoist style washing line that is probably older than I am nestled in the centre of the cottage style (euphemism for as many weeds as plants) garden we have cultivated from a totally blank canvas, and I watch our little 8 month old Westie pup gnawing on a bone under the shade of his favourite Duranta bush and feel an immense sense of inner peace.

Yesterday we had the 20 week ultrasound for our first baby. It is the third time that I have heard her little heart beat and it never ceases to take my breath away. We could see her mouth open and shut and make out the four chambers of her heart and got 3D images that give us a glimpse of the little face we will see when she is born. We didn't find out the sex. I will be ecstatic either way but I had a feeling very early on that "it" is a "she".

One of the common questions people seem to ask me is whether we were trying to conceive. I find this an incredibly intimate question and consequently I haven't felt obliged to be honest in my response. We wanted the baby very much. If by "trying" what is meant is taking temperatures every morning and expensive multivitamins with a good supply of folic acid as well as some foul tasting pond slime herbal concoction made by a naturopath that refers to herself as "Australia's baby-maker", and avoiding alcohol and caffeine and sugar and gluten and obviously having sex, then yes we were trying. But I learnt through that very trying time in our lives that there is an incredible sense of failure and grief attached to getting a period after a round of sex that is so objective-focussed that rather than cuddling or spooning afterwards, your partner lifts your hips and legs up in the air just to give "the boys" a helping hand.

So right now I feel incredibly blessed. I have had a lovely pregnancy so far, just a wee bit of nausea towards the end of the first trimester that was easily relieved by eating a lot of organic carrots and keeping my distance from anything with strong flavours. And some tiredness that was exacerbated with the heat wave we had here in January. And some over zealous yoga resulting in a strained sacroiliac joint at about week 13. Otherwise the obstetrician's words to us were that we were going great guns.

I first felt movement on the train from Roma St to Albion at around week 16. John first felt it when I was lying on our ikea couch after a day of too much sugar at week 18. And I am falling in love with my expanding bump. At first I worried how big it was how early on. And then I let lots of comments about how tiny I was make me anxious about the baby not developing enough. Now I feel proud and fiercely protective of my tummy.

John and I spent last weekend shopping for some work clothes that will hopefully take me through to when I finish. And we have a bought a second hand rocking chair and a cot and change table and bath from friends going back to the UK. We have a lot of work to do to the house to make us feel baby ready - the bathroom, internal and external painting, extending the rear deck so we have some living space, a car port, making the garden more low maintenance. But we will be ready when the time comes whether those things are done or not. The reality is there isn't any alternative.


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