The first thought that came to my head was, “Oh, crap.” I was sitting at my doctor’s office when my MD burst through the doors and confirmed what I wasn’t ready to hear—that I was “most definitely” pregnant. Denial is something that comes naturally when you know the truth deep down but think that by refusing to admit it, it will somehow go away. That’s why it took three pregnancy tests (all with positive results) to finally force me to face the truth that a baby was on the way.
You may wonder why, as a twenty-something, newly-married woman who was actually planning on having kids “someday,” I was not thrilled with the news. Well, I guess I was not done being selfish yet. I still wanted to focus on my career, eat and drink whatever I pleased (*ahem* sashimi and lattes), not have to worry about finding a baby-sitter every time I went out, and most of all, travel.
My husband on the other hand, a true rarity of the male species who has been ready for kids most of his life, was ecstatic. I couldn’t help but feel guilty with my own reaction. I usually like to think of myself as a fairly flexible person; one that doesn’t plan out every detail in life. But this baby was definitely not something I had planned on for another two to three years—after all, at the time, my husband and I had only been married for 6 months. I always felt that I had to mentally and physically prepare myself to be a mother; being thrown off guard derailed my sense of control.
While I was planning my wedding, my mom and mother-in-law used to always ask when they could expect grandkids. When they heard the news, their reactions were one of shock, “What?! So soon?” Yup. Thanks.
Fears of Motherhood
One of my biggest fears was that maybe I was not the “mothering” type. Never a big fan of other people’s kids (unless they had a blood-tie to me), I was not even a pet person. My husband’s Jack Russell-Miniature Pincher cross, Kacie, somehow weaseled her way into my heart. My maternal instincts never quite kicked in even after several of my houseplants and cactuses withered away.
So with the denial phase well past, I progressed to the next stage which is surrender. I stocked up on prenatal vitamins, tried to scarf down the 7-8 servings of fruits and veggies a day (along with the other dietary recommendations), cut out caffeine (the hardest part for me), and exercise (I use a hula hoop). I busied myself with just living my life. The first few weeks breezed by as if the life-altering discovery had never occurred.
My husband and I had planned a trip to Thailand before we knew of my pregnancy. We decided to still go on the trip after my doctor said it should be okay. That was when I first started feeling the symptoms of pregnancy. Luckily I didn’t get any of the lovely morning sickness typical of the first trimester, but the fatigue and acne I got from the raging hormones more than made up for it. The humidity plus any physical activity made my face look like a pubescent teenager’s all over again. I suppose the three day jungle trek and hiking up the side of a mountain in Chiang Mai was not very helpful…
When we returned from our tropical getaway, we visited the obstetrician. That was when we heard the baby’s heartbeat for the first time. The tiny, quick thumps sounded more like a hummingbird’s than a human’s. My heart warmed at the lima bean-sized person growing inside of me. That day, I progressed to the next stage—anticipation.
A Change of Heart
I started reading articles about motherhood and babies, and frequented a few websites which provided a week-by-week playbook of fetal development. My husband and I started talking diapers, cribs, and names. The feeling of dread in the pit of my stomach slowly made room for excitement for the baby’s arrival.
The day we received our first ultrasound, was the day the little bugger secured a permanent place in my heart. The photograph of the baby whom we affectionately nicknamed “Squiddles” looked more like a little skeleton than a person as the machine took a cross-section of the skull rather than a side profile. But it was our little skeleton.
Now with three months left to go, the little kicking skeleton gets bedtime stories from me on most nights. The worries about being a good mother are still there, but I’m sure the hormones that come with pregnancy have helped a lot in kick-starting my dormant motherly instincts. My friend who cried herself to sleep for weeks when she first found out she was pregnant is now a cool, hip mom. There is hope for the women out there who did not always dream of becoming mothers.
