3rd October 2016
It might have taken nineteen weeks, but I’m finally feeling like I am pregnant. People are starting to notice too. I get the side eye from people on the street, but I’m starting to think it’s because they’re trying to guess my age. People constantly say that I’ll love my baby face as I hit middle age, but I can feel their judgement as I walk down the street. I briefly flirted with the idea of getting a shirt made that has my age
or some smart ass comment printed on it. I don’t usually care if people judge me, but I just know that people are judging me, my life choices, and making automatic assumptions about what my life with my son is going to look like.
Heck, I don’t know what my life is going to look like after he gets here…and that’s okay. I just don’t appreciate it when other people pass off judgement without knowing me. C’est la vie.
I booked those famous antenatal classes that I was talking about. Two full days in December. We don’t have many people in Whitianga, so we have to get all the information in one huge hit. On one hand, it’ll be good to have it out of the way. On the other hand, I might go mad from sitting in a room full of happy couples. I guess I just have to wait and see. Can’t go passing judgement too early and all that 😉
I ended up in the doctor’s office again this week because of health problems. For once, there was nothing wrong with my pregnancy, but solely with my body. I was itching my boob (glamorous) when I found a lump. I was also writing a mock campaign about breast cancer, so my mind immediately jumped to the worst. I know it seems a bit ridiculous, but I couldn’t help that uh oh from going through my mind. I went to the doctor and he referred me to an ultrasound clinic.
I went to the clinic in Hamilton and got the ‘We don’t know what’s wrong’ line. They’ve referred me to another clinic in Hamilton, and I’m waiting to hear back from them. This time I’m scheduled for a biopsy. Fantastic. I’ve had needles everywhere else. I don’t think adding a needle to the boob is going to be a big deal at this point.
If it’s not one thing, it’s another. Am I right?
I’m starting to think my body doesn’t like being pregnant.
Twenty-one weeks to go!