In June 2008 I’d come to terms with the fact I’d require IVF and embraced the chance to travel and save with Steve as a two-some for another 2 or so years. I’d also thrown myself into a Photography/Journalism course, bought a new camera, set up a website and had grand plans for a small business. I got serious about weight loss, got a casual job in fashion retail and really began to care about my appearance… then on the 19th of February 2009 everything changed.
I was pregnant… when I was told by medical professionals that I couldn’t get pregnant. Not only that but I was also 13wks along and our son would arrive in just 6 months. Steve and I were in shock for a long time. It wasn’t until our 20wk u/s when we saw our son for the first time, knowing our baby was a boy and healthy and starting that strong bond with him that we broke down in the u/s room and the technician had to leave us for a few minutes to savour the moment. It all seemed so surreal.
Suddenly, the years of repressed motherhood escaped and it’s been all I can think about. Our son, our little baby. All our energy was focused on preparing our lives and home for him. We’ve seen accountants, doctors, reviewed insurances, scoured ebay, visited every baby store imaginable, read every baby book/magazine available and confirmed our life directions for him like religion, schooling, care etc so we’re both on the same page. It’s been exhaugsting but thrilling all at the same time.
It also didn’t leave room for much else in our lives. Steve quit his soccer team so he could spend more time at home. His position was reevaluated at work and with his qualifications has been promoted which is excellent but also makes work more demanding and time consuming. Steve’s been to every Ob appointment and very supportive, thankfully he’s not bored by the whole pregnancy process and loves being involved. He just wishes I’d make dinner more often lol.
I don’t miss working but I do miss playing with clothes and helping customers with outfits. I miss buying new clothes and experimenting with my personal style. I miss my pre-pregnancy body but I also love and adore what I have now as I never thought I’d get to experience it. Feeling him move is magical, heartburn and reflux not so much. I miss dressing up and going out on Friday nights with my hair and makeup just right. I don’t miss alcohol though which is nice.
I don’t feel the strong urge to study anymore and I wish I could postpone for a year. The course isn’t what I expected, more journalism than photography and I feel a bit cheated. I also think my motivation is lacking because I know all I’ll want to do when LM arrives is wrap myself up in a bubble with him and take things slowly, savouring the moments. I still go out and take photos but not like I used to, the energy level just isn’t there anymore plus I hardly see anyone nowdays and it’s not for lack of trying.
I’m truely grateful for Steve, he’s my best friend who loves me “Billions & Trillions” (thats actually engraved on my wedding rings) and it’s hard to believe that I met him when I was 17 and he was 23 and just knew he was mine and he knew I was his. We’ve been together for 6.5years and it while it hasn’t been smooth sailing we seem to be able to weather any storm. All of our grievances were based on my infertility and related issues and now that they’re no longer relevant it’s a whole new world for us thats eerily peaceful and full of hope for our family.
Sometimes it’s hard to remember that I’m not seperated into jigsaw pieces, that only one part of me fuctions at a time but somedays it feels like that. When I remember to straighten my hair and take more than 2 seconds to pick an outfit not based on how comfortable it is, I remember the Stylist. When I pick up my Niki to photograph something obscure in macro I remember the Artist. When Steve and I accidently spoon at 3am and he’s happy to nuzzel my neck and place our hands on the bump to feel the baby move I remember… everything worthwhile.