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17 Weeks

                      

I have to say that so far, I love being pregnant. Especially now that morning sickness has faded and my appetite and energy are back- I’m going to revel in these “easy” months for as long as I can!

I don’t feel like my belly has grown much in the last few weeks, but when I look back to the very beginning you can definitely see a difference.

         

This week I got photo-bombed. Big time.

       

         

And despite the fact that I am truly enjoying myself these days, I still have moments where panic seizes me – moments where my heart stops and I think “What have we done?”

We are going to be parents! Us!

THIS GUY!

         

We’re fucked, aren’t we?

My breathing starts getting shallow and my heart starts pounding and I just have to remind myself that we still have five months to figure everything out.

“Everything” like, for example, where to live. And what to do about work. And which cloth diapers to get and where to buy reusable wipes and and how we’re going to fit Gus AND the baby in our little car (answer: we’re not. we have to get a new one. OMG. add that to the list) and how we’re going to survive the first few days, weeks months, how we are going to go about coherently working together to raise and nurture and parent a tiny human being to adulthood, while ensuring he or she ends up a good person, a decent person. The kind of person who speaks kindly to servers and offers to help clear the table without being asked.

OH and the name. The small matter of what to name said human being, what to feed it (when it requires food, that is) and what on earth it will be like when this baby stops becoming an “it” and starts becoming a son or daughter. 

So. I adore being pregnant. I am reveling in this sweet unknown at the same time I harbour a secret undercurrent of fear. But it’s all part and parcel, and each morning I sit in the sun on my porch, sipping a smoothie and rubbing my belly and smiling.

I’ve never felt so content.

(p.s. no movement yet. I thought that this would be something I wentcrazyover, analyzing and over-analyzing each and every little bubble and twitch, but I don’t know what to feel and I haven’t felt anything out of the ordinary and I’m surprisingly unphased by it.

In fact, truth be told I’m surprised by how laid-back I feel about pregnancy in general. I’m not reading any books, I’m not running to Dr. Google every time I feel a twang or a twinge. I’m just…here.)

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