Welcome to Pregnancy Without a Filter, a new weekly series chronicling my life as a first-time mom-to-be. Read along for insights, outbursts, ups, downs, and the real deal about the crazy adventure of making a person.
So I’m 17 weeks along, and I’m totally pumped to say that about 95 percent of the time, I don’t feel nauseated! The queasiness is mostly gone, and in its wake there are a few pesky blemishes and a fair amount of reflux, but I’ll take it. Any day of the week.
But the weird thing is, in the last few days, I’ve actually starting missing the baby. As though it’s an actual person that I’ve met and somehow we haven’t communicated in a while and I need to schedule some time to hang out. See, we haven’t laid eyes on the little buddy on an ultrasound screen in about five weeks now. During our last doctor appointment there was lots of poking and prodding and measuring and listening to the (totally incredible!) heartbeat, but no visuals. Add to that the fact that lots of mamas-to-be start feeling baby flutters right about now, and I’ve got nothin’. So every day, I keep wishing for some sort of little reminder, or hello, or something to tell me that baby’s in there and doing his (her?) thing.
Is this totally crazy? I keep looking at our old ultrasound photos and trying to imagine how much bigger or different baby will look. Is it possible to miss someone who can’t even open his eyes yet? I have a feeling that it’s maybe more like I am looking for some reassurance that everything is okay in there. It’s kind of an all-quiet-on-the-western-front thing right now, and even a little kick would make me feel like everything is on track.
So for now, I just keep on keeping on. I eat my veggies and take my vitamin and do my baby yoga and trust that my little buddy is in there, just working hard to grow. But I would be lying if I said I wasn’t counting the days until July 8, when we see our tiny pal again and finally get to know if it’s a boy or a girl. That date is burned into my brain more clearly than my due date this week.
You guys, am I weird? If you’re pregnant, or ever have been, was there a stretch of time where you missed your bun in the oven?