I have been journaling since I learned I was pregnant, and meant toΒ start sharing these writings immediately after my previous announcement. Life intervened, of course, but eventually we’ll catch up to the present moment!
I wrote the following eleven weeks ago, on July 18, two days after taking the home pregnancy test:
It turns out that the number of weeks one is pregnant depends on how one is counting. To me it makes more sense to approximate the date of conception, but many people go by date of last period.* So, depending on how you calculate it, I am between five and seven weeks pregnant. Iβm not really thinking of “baby” at the moment β it feels so abstract β but the internet tells me that what will eventually become a baby is, right now, somewhere between the size of a sesame seed and that of a small raspberry.** A tiny instigator of change, sitting there in my abdomen.
I suspected the truthΒ for several weeks before I tested, but there wasn’t enough evidenceΒ to make the leap from suspicion to action. Many of the symptoms of early pregnancy are similar to those of PMS, and others are alsoΒ familiar: digestive disturbance, a feeling of motion sickness, etc. I only took the test when things started to feel weird in a way I hadnβt previously experienced — and quite suddenly. I went from feeling a little less hungry to feeling downright queasy. I was dizzy first thing in the morning. My breasts were so tender I wincedΒ during hugs. And there were times when I was so inexplicably tired that getting out of my chair felt like, if not an impossibility, at least totally pointlessΒ exertion. And there were otherΒ potentialΒ signs: a little bit of headache here and there, a random cold, a feeling of tightness or fullness in my lower abdomen that made it hard to get comfortable in bed β even at this very early stage!
The other night I lay there wondering how anything as tiny as a raspberry could be causing so much discomfort, so early in the process.Β As I thought about it, though, a metaphor arose quite naturally. I had been struck and deeply moved, while observing my sister and her newborn son, to realize that she had been his home for the first nine months of his life. I picturedΒ my body making a houseΒ where there hadnβt been one previously. I thought of construction. I thought of tearing down walls and erecting new ones, of setting foundations, of installing insulation and plumbing and wires, of laying floors and putting in windows and doors, of painting and lighting and hanging curtains and bringing in furniture. To the humans instigating these renovations, this isΒ all normal activity, but I imagine if you asked the house how she felt about it, she would say: itβs exhausting, all this preparation. Thereβs always something new happening every day. It feels strange. And thatβs just the process of making the residence; it isnβt even making the person who will live there, which a house doesnβt do β but which I am. So itβs no wonder everything feels wearying, even if my new inhabitant is still only about the size of a bean. My body is preparing.
Speaking of my bodyβ¦ one of the things Iβd always feared about pregnancy (and having children in general) is some kind of takeover by the body of the mind, of my personality undergoing changes I was powerless to stop, of being brainwashed into doting motherhoodΒ and β scariest of all β liking it. I do have a strong sense of my body taking the reins now, of my mind taking a very deliberate back seat. But to my surprise, I feel happy about it. I donβt think itβs brainwashing, because it reminds me of how Iβve felt after a really good massage: my body getting its due, reminding me of its deep wisdom and capability and strength, the brain acknowledging (sometimes with a shock) that existence requires teamwork. Itβs like my body and mind got together and my body said, Hey, look, I can do this. You can definitely support me, but Iβm going to have to do the heavy lifting here, and my mind replied, Much as I hate to admit it, I’m at sea here, but you seem to know what youβre doing. So I’ll cede leadershipΒ to you for awhile.
And so, my body is in the front seat now, and I feel happy — not because Iβm Making a Baby (that part still doesnβt feel real), but because my body is such an easier managerΒ than my brain. My brain has a lot of opinions: Iβm doing it wrong, I should be doing more, I need to push through this tiredness, if I only tried harder I could be different than I am, etc, etc. My brain is ambitious and makes plans, and scolds me when I donβt make good on them. My brain is, in fact, rather mean to me. Us. My body, on the other hand (on both hands?), is considerably less linear and, oddly enough, more confident. I think second-guessing is an invention of the brain; it doesnβt seem to be something the body does. My body isnβt concerned about goals because it only really has one: to survive, and then, to thrive. And Iβm already doing both. So itβs contentedly humming along, building its little house, and as long as I see to its needs, it really doesnβt complain, nor does it ask more of me. And itβs so much easier to listen to my body right now, because my brain isnβt front and center yelling at me about what it thinks I should want.
So yes, it’s early indeed, but so far Iβm finding pregnancy really enjoyable. Itβs isnβt always comfortable, but it is, to my huge surprise, relaxing β at least compared to the near-constant and often cruel self-flagellation that is the life of an artist!!!
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*I can see why they do this, but I canβt get into it. The first two weeks of pregnancy = a time when I wasnβt actually pregnant? Nope. It is supremely important to me that my pregnancy was a choice. I donβt want anyone foisting a pregnancy on me when I wasnβt pregnant — even in the name of calculating the pregnancy that I am actually having.
**Circle of tiny things, clockwise from top: sesame, brown jasmine rice, pearl barley, split pea, chickpea, pinto bean, chocolate chip, two kinds of cardamom (the larger one is a Thai cardamom pod), raisin, almond. I am pleased with this illustration for many reasons, one of which is that almost all of these items are also colors that people can be.
I’m very much looking forward to reading the rest of your pregnancy journal entries. π
π π I’m looking forward to sharing them!
wait but if you were being brainwashed, would you KNOW you were being brainwashed? π π π hee
Haha yesssss I had that thought as well. If it hadn’t been for the similarity to post-massage feelings I would be highly suspicious. π
Complete brownie points for the shapes. So sweet. I had tears in my eyes reading your entry. Keep a lemon handy and sniff the peel for reducing the nauseous feeling. Drink warm soups. So happy to see you write. Pregnancy is a choice. Much love. Keep imagining. Keep writing! β€ π
Aww, thank you, Soumya! Love and good thoughts to you! π