feeling self-ish

As ever, there are a number of things worrying me at the moment. Of these, several have to with the growing realisation that I am now fully embarked upon a course which involves losing sections of what makes me, well, me.

Specifically, how will I, as a mother, retain what I currently think is important about my sense of self? How do mothers retain their mental and physical independence, intelligence, sense of whimsy, their own child-like feelings - not to mention their attractiveness - in the face of all that motherhood entails? Will anyone ever look at me and see just me again, or will I become an appendage to something else - a growing and demanding tornado of human flesh and desires?

Quite commonplace self-ish worries, as you can see.

The husband says, phooey. He suggests that we should all be looking at ways to abandon self anyway, since it's simply a rather tired and confusing encumbrance in a modern rational world, and anyway, I should give the new self a chance - I might find I liked it and I might not find the bits of me I think important so important anymore. (I don't think he quite said any of that actually, but, for the purposes of argument, let's just believe he did - someone needed to.)

I do accept that being a mother will change me, but today I'm feeling selfish and just concerned about which bits will get the chop. What if I want the old bits back? And, maybe even more scary, what if I don't want them back and actively embrace their being subsumed into 'The Mother'?

And while I do know that fathers change too, there's no getting away from the fact that they're just not so physically involved. They're genetically programmed to behave differently - perhaps in ways that are more, not less self-ish. (Which is not to say that all flavours of human, male or female, can't and don't resist their programming, when they wish, if they wish.)

Becoming a mother isn't like re-inventing yourself in ways we might have done when we were younger - by deciding to wear bright colours occasionally instead of black, or by ensuring you are seen reading important existentialist tomes in a serious manner. From the ledge where I'm currently standing it feels more like being given a new identity when you've testified against the Mob.

I exaggerate for effect, of course, but perhaps you get my point? Don't worry, tomorrow I'll be worrying about something else.

week 14

Here we are, almost at the end of a year speckled with the usual ups and downs, like most years. How will 2005 turn out? Still full of ups and downs, I'm guessing, but in different measures.

One of the ups of the year was that in the last few days, two good friends had their baby, a little early. Welcome to the world little Alex - keep on doing the unexpected throughout your life and you'll do fine.

So how's our little one proceeding? The fact of the week is that he may start growing a moustache this week - and eyebrows. And taste buds. Right now, I'm betting he's enjoying that white Rioja.

good things about being pregnant - No 3

One small glass of wine tastes soooo good when you haven't had any for months. Especially when it's a really nice white Rioja. Mmmm.

Universe not past it

Apparently many astronomers thought that the Universe was too old to have kids - having gone through a kind of 'cosmic menopause'. But, no, it's confounded them. NASA thinks it has found evidence of newborn galaxies just 100 million years old.

Now, aint that cute?

one down, two to go

So, that's the first trimester out of the way then. Only another 30-odd weeks to go. Ohmygod. That's both a very long time and not long enough by far.

Husband and I had a frank talk about how scared we are about the whole thing when we went for the scan the other day. What kind of people are we going to be post-July? It's not just 'will we be good parents?' - although that's pretty high on the list - it's also all the selfish thoughts that go with it, like 'will we ever have a decent holiday again?'

We've also just found out that another set of friends is pregnant, bringing the number of expected arrivals among our friends next year to 6, including one set of twins (way to go S!). And there's time for more. Which brings up the other selfish question which is 'will we ever see our fellow be-babied friends again?' I'm sure we will, but, heck, there goes the spare bedroom for many people! This is not to mention our un-encumbered friends... will they ever dare to set foot in our home, running the gauntlet of toys and nappies and midnight yells?

Anyway, from now on the hormones are supposed to kick right in and make me feel great. Which I don't believe, but I'm daft enough to be looking forward to it anyway. Out go icky mornings, in comes 'blooming' and all that jazz.

By the way, when I say 'scared' I also mean 'excited'. Like on a rollercoaster. I never liked rollercoasters much before, but I'm getting used to this one.

definitely there

it's a baby

Looking grainy and only really visible if you squint and turn your head sideways... but definitely there. She was actually quite comfily doing a headstand like some kind of yogi, but the doctor couldn't do his thing with her that way so had to use a different view which unfortunately isn't so clear.

She looks like her daddy at the moment although the books do say the body will catch up with the head over the coming weeks...

She moves - waves her arms and kicks and everything. Aaaah.

And the risk of Down's is somewhere over the 1 in 2500 mark, which is all fine and lovely.

thank God you're here, Thermo-Nuclear Energy Baby

This is the weekend upon which the central heating has decided to pack up. And it's currently snowing. Luckily I have a small nuclear reactor inside me and it is managing to keep both me and husband warm in bed. That's some feat for something the size of a chipolata.

Now if we could just rig my stomach up to the boiler...

week 12

He'll be about 6cm long and all major parts will be in place by the end of this week, according to my book - fingers, toenails, tooth buds, genitals.

From now on he'll just be spending his days exercising and growing. Inside me. How strange is that?

preoccupied and her pot belly

I've been thinking about non-baby things recently such as Christmas, work (or the absence of it), and other people. It's been fine, but I have neglected this blog.

So, what's happened? I've had my first encounter with a midwife. Very nice she was too, seemed efficient and pressed the right buttons. She weighed and measured, prodded a little, took large quantities of blood and accepted my urine sample with glee. All seems ok so far, test results in a week or so. Next visit at 16 weeks.

The Nuchal scan is fast approaching - next Monday. I'm a little nervous, but I think that's normal.

And, perhaps tempting fate ahead of that, we have told a lot of people now - and had some lovely reactions. Thanks everybody for your good wishes and congratulations and offers of goodies of all kinds. It's all going to be interesting.

Oh and my pot belly defnitely now has a curve that is not as it used to be. It starts lower down and ends further up. I know that this is mostly due to my (increasingly demanding) stomach, but I'm clinging to the belief that some of it is also a strawberry-sized proto-person.

all in darkness

I've just had the most infuriating visit to my mum. Nothing to do with her at all, she was sweetness and light, and covered in crumbs from multiple biscuits.

No, we were having a quiet sit when the - I have to assume - lay pastor who conducts services at the care home once a fortnight turned up. Although I groaned internally, I have no problem with his leading a singalong and doing a bit of a reading - the old dears actually seem to enjoy it, and anything that gets them going has got to be good. It was his sermon that left me fuming. He took as his text 'we are born into darkness and into darkness we shall go' - I don't know the exact Biblical reference I'm afraid. And his thesis was that we are all born sinners. His proof - I quote: "Have you noticed that you never have to teach a child to be naughty? but you do have to teach them to be good..."

There's so much misunderstanding of everything here that I would not even be sure where to start refuting his argument (and it would be hardly worth doing so to his face of course). And of course, most of the residents took no notice of him at all. But oh, it did make me mad.

Week 10 - the foetus

Now that I'm in Week 10, or 9 weeks and whatever days, my book tells me that I can call the baby a foetus. Before, she was an embryo - major organs still under construction. This week, all the fundamentals should be there. It's just growing from now on.

Which might explain why I'm so damn hungry all the time.