On the majority of days, I think I avoid thinking about the fact that I am pregnant at all. It just doesn’t come to mind for some reason.
Maybe it’s a defense mechanism, and I’m just subconsciously keeping myself from thinking about it to protect myself from further possible heartache, but honestly, I just feel like I am so preoccupied with other things that I fail to think it’s important to think about a lot… until, of course, I start wondering why I’m not holding a Mojito at this particular moment, or I suffer such an intense bout of back pain that I wonder what I did to deserve this. Even having all day to look at my obviously pregnant belly doesn’t really make it click very often.
Until recently, at any rate. Lately it’s been a bit more prominent of a thought because I have started to get semi-regular movement over the last few days. I think I first noticed movement around 19 weeks, when I was laying quietly in bed, hands on my belly, and really looking for it. I noticed the lightest series of taps on my right side after a few minutes. I’m now 22 weeks, and it has become much more obvious in the last week and a half or so. Some of his rolls and jabs are even painful now – already – which leaves me wondering how I ever made it to 24 weeks with Brock without feeling him once. This baby is measuring a little bit ahead, but Brock was as well, so I’m not sure what to make of that. I guess it’s just easier to notice and feel the second time around when you’re already broken in a bit.
How do I feel about getting movement? It’s really hard to say. It’s bittersweet, first and foremost. Before, even when I was doing things for him, like shopping for a crib or working on tidying up the nursery-to-be, it was easy to not think about the fact that he was there (is there). It kind of just felt like going through the motions. Now, though? I have to come to terms with the fact that, probably very soon, I’m going to be getting very constant reminders of his presence… and every time I think about him, it brings a lot of tough emotions. It reminds me that I’m going to be a mother again soon, and all the things that I should, but don’t, know about having a baby… because I was robbed of the first one.
And all these constant reminders just serve to frustrate me because I know all too well that just because I’m 22 weeks along and getting movement doesn’t necessarily mean I am getting my take-home baby this time, either. Heck, I know that hitting 40 weeks doesn’t guarantee a baby. There is always time and room for things to go wrong all over again. I don’t exactly think that they will, but even the fact that there is that room for error stresses me right out. I really miss having my pregnancy innocence, and being able to pretend that things never go wrong. A loss is never not terrible, but I am particularly irritated that my first pregnancy had to end in a full-term loss because I will never be able to enjoy a pregnancy again.
Anyway, I haven’t posted a whole lot lately because I have been keeping the pregnancy at arm’s reach to keep my anxiety down. I found I was coping better when I was not thinking about it that much, so I have been trying hard to keep busy with other things and not give myself the time to dwell on the harder stuff. The one positive thing about this avoidance is that I have actually been delightfully productive lately; I have immersed myself in my volunteer work, am finally getting driving school done so I will have my G2 before the arrival of our second baby, have got lots of work done on the nursery (I’m just wrapping up the refinishing and painting of an old dresser that I salvaged for him), and, best of all, I have finally written my final exam for high school, meaning that, when I get the marks, I’ll be able to apply for my high school diploma. FINALLY! I realize I’m a good 7 years late, but better late than never, right?
As if on cue – trying to force me to think about him – our dear sweet son has started kicking me in the back. I thought I would be happy for the reassurance when this day came, but right now his jabs are still too sporadic and inconsistent for me to really track them, so I’m actually more just concerned that he will stop moving and I won’t notice. After all, Brock stopping moving all at once was how my journey down this path began in the first place…