It’s fair to say that my pregnancy was planned but only by me. I cannot believe I turned into one of those women that was so completely overwhelmed by the incessant ticking of their biological clock that they stopped taking their pill without the full consent of their partner. I know I am a horrible human being and I am going to hell, but honestly, I am OK with it. It started with a genuine mistake which then lead to a realization that I could, in theory, keep forgetting and see what happens (I knew what would happen!) It’s not as if we never talked about having babies, we did. We have been together for 8 years and not all of them have been happy. I had a slight misdemeanor with an ex a few years back which I kept entirely to myself (mostly because I got really pissed, slurred my way through 2 bottles of wine and then threw up and shat myself all over the hotel bathroom floor) which threw me off track with my relationship and I have a tendency to want everything my own way which must be relatively hard for him to deal with. But despite all that I am pretty happy and I assume he is too otherwise we wouldn’t be together. Neither of us are the “stay together for the kids” type. We talked about trying for kids once our house renovations were finished but I knew that there would never be a day when the house is finished so essentially I took matters into my own hands, or womb.
It took about 9 months to get pregnant and in the end I was starting to wonder if all the cogs were in place, but apparently they were. His immediate reaction was happiness, followed by a series of life altering rows leading to him telling me that we are not right for each other and I should pack by bags and go which was a great thing for a pregnant lady to hear. Eventually he admitted to being a shithouse and that he was scared and said he wanted to make it work. I was dubious at first but he really did try his best to support me and I can hardly judge as I have not been the most perfect partner.
My pregnancy was relatively uneventful in the grand scheme of things but to me it felt like the worst pregnancy in the world. I had a lot of sickness in the beginning, followed by a lot of heartburn and pelvic pain. Eventually we found out we were having a girl and after that things got a little easier. I’ve always had my heart set on a little girl and I think my endless praying to the god that I don’t believe in and feminine thoughts led me to have created a little female which I was really happy about. The midwife said she thinks its a girl but not 100% so I clung on to that hope throughout the pregnancy but secretly I knew I was having a girl. To be honest I don’t feel terribly guilty about actually not wanting a boy. All the boy clothes and boy names just did nothing for me. In retrospect I just did not consider that to be a possibility.
So we talked names and I drank gavisgon like there was no tomorrow for a few weeks. Work got a little harder, mostly because my boss is a prize cunt. I don’t know anyone whose boss isn’t an absolute mother fucker but honestly, mine is unbelievable. There are far too many occasions where she has humiliated me and my colleagues to mention, I would need a separate “My boss is a twat” blog. But one notable comment was when she said that my 20 week old baby was tiny and that my sizeable bump was mostly overeating. What the actual fuck?
Side Note: Why is it OK to say really fucking rude things to pregnant ladies? Here is a list of some of the things that complete strangers/friends/family/colleagues actually said to me whilst I was pregnant
1. Are you sure you’re not having twins?
2. You look massive
3. You probably shouldn’t be eating again
4. Your bump is a weird shape
5. Your bump is too small
6. You are carrying too high, is the baby OK?
7. Any day now? (I was 20 weeks)
8 You are being sick a lot
9. You aren’t being sick a lot
I did actually tell someone in the street that I was not pregnant but in fact had a tumor that was inoperable. Like I said, going to hell.
So the big day was approaching and my little bundle was breech from about 26 weeks. I knew that of course because the acid reflux and heartburn was excruciating and I could feel the head right under my rib cage. Everyone (including my fucking boss!) said that the baby would turn when ready but evidently she didn’t. Like with the gender thing, I just kind of knew I would have a c-section. I joked with friends that it would be like trying to squeeze a beach ball through a test tube but somewhere in my weird brain I just knew that I wouldn’t deliver naturally. I was actually terrified of giving birth to be honest and it would keep me awake at night so I was grateful of the c-section and actually it was not too bad.