Today I am 20 weeks pregnant. That makes me officially half way. It almost makes me sad that its half over, but then I think I'm halfway to meeting my daughter.
I used to think about what kind of mother I'd be. I remember riding the bus home from school with Anna Wilson and her asking me if I wanted kids, I said "no" and her response was "well that's too bad, I think you'd be a great mom." I think I was eleven, and that honestly changed my mind. Silly isn't it? Something so small, I'm pretty sure I would have changed my mind on my own, but I remember that moment.
It never happens the way you would think. I thought I would grow up, get married, settle into a beautiful house and then get pregnant. I got married to Aaron in 2007, it was a beautiful and classy wedding, very fitting. I'm pretty sure now that we set up our marriage up for failure. We bought a house when you couldn't find a house to buy and the one we bought was an expensive piece of shit. The first time we turned on the heater it sparked. We set out on this giant mess of a project like adventurers, the idea of building a home together was romantic and exciting. Fast forward two years, we still weren't fucking done... We were living in a trailer outside of the house with four animals. The mess piled up into every inch of our space. I worked overtime to pay for our continually piling credit card bills. Aaron spent every free moment of his time building our house. We began to resent eachother and blame eachother for how miserable we both are. We both eventually looked for comfort and friendship outside the marriage which never goes well. I left angry, hurt and scared one morning in May, just two days after finding out I was pregnant. I wish I had felt a different way about finding out I was pregnant. I was devastated. I felt like nothing could be so unfair. I was alone and pregnant.
I stayed with a friend for a few weeks, then eventually found my own place, it made me sad looking around at my new place. It wasn't home. It wasn't a place I'd spent the last two years of my life building. I got a sinking feeling going home from work, knowing that I was going home to an empty place that didn't even feel like home. I spent a lot of time talking to my family, something I should have done a lot more often. One night my dad told me to stop feeling sorry for myself, that there were people in a lot worse situations than myself and despite what happened, I still had a lot to be thankful for. He was right. So I did. I started healing and actually enjoying spending time alone. I started reading more, taking my dog for walks and watering my plants on a regular basis. For someone who had a reputation of killing every plant I've ever owned within a matter of weeks, I'm proud to say my plants have never looked better.
I started to picture how my life would look after the baby was born, sharing custody, eventually meeting someone and enjoying being in a relationship again. I had heard the baby;s heartbeat at my first OB appointment and giggled with excitement. It had been about three months since I'd left and things began to feel ok. The past month or so Aaron had been routinely letting me know he was still in love with me and that he had screwed things up. I agreed and wasn't ready to forgive him. It was easier being mad. Then something happened, I don't know exactly when, but I let my guard down. I let him back in just a little by seeing him briefly for lunches but that wasn't when I fell for him again. It was after I told him how scared I was to let him back to my life again and hugged him. Something in me melted and it felt great and awful at the same time. I went home and cried that night.. then thanks to a weak stomach currently, threw up. I'm trying to move slowly, its hard when you let your heart get attached again,. It makes it so hard to be alone again which is so strange when I was finally ok alone. Every time he does a silly dance or kisses my belly or pulls me close at night and kisses my neck it makes me fall in love with him a little more...
I first felt movement around 13 weeks, which I now realize is early. It felt like pressure in a place I had never felt before. I doubted whether it was the baby a little the first few times I felt movement, but it was like no gas bubble I'd felt. The movement has become stronger week by week. By week 18 I felt teenie little kicks and flips, they still make me smile. She seems to really like music. I was in the car listening to a song with repeating bass and she started kicking like crazy. She also moves when I sing to her. When I'm at work sitting and talking to a patient starting an IV I will sometimes feel her kick, it makes me happy like we have a secret between the two of us.
I cant wait to see her little face and kiss and smell her.
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