I am twenty weeks pregnant. Half way there.
Okay, it is out there. It has taken me this long to post about it because, frankly, I do not know what else to write about it. I have so many emotions and thoughts about it all, like most expectant mothers I am sure. I end up feeling ambivalent and in slight disbelief most of the time.
In some ways it has been devastating to have been one month pregnant when we were shocked with the death of my father. It also felt like a karmic slap in the face to be nauseous basically from the moment of conception. I had none of that my first go around. They say that every pregnancy is different, but I smugly doubted that. Wrong. Thankfully, it stopped almost to day at the end of the first trimester.
In many ways, the pregnancy has been a healthy distraction. I could not drown my sorrows in Sauvignon Blanc. My nausea put me off chocolate and big, fatty meals. I craved McDonalds hamburgers, but the fries left me feeling worse.
My hormones and grief have made me very aware of my time with E. I am very aware of what my father is missing, but I am also much more present with her. I spoil her..more. I try to come up with new mini adventures for us each week. Even if it was only trying out a new cafe around the corner or taking the tram to Central Station to people watch at Starbucks. One Sunday we rode the tram to the edge of the city and got of and got right back on the next tram back home. Today I sat in on her dance class and then took her to our nicest department store to share a brownie and glass of milk. Oh and she picked out a new puzzle and book. I feel like we only have 20 more weeks until adventures like this get shelved for awhile.