Friday, May 9, 2014
Lately, I find myself staring at blank pages, sort of wanting to write about pregnancy and sort of feeling like I have nothing to say. Here I am, at 18 weeks, and part of me feels like I've been pregnant forever, and part of me is shocked that I'm almost to the halfway point. I always wondered why pregnancy was counted in weeks instead of months, because nobody who isn't pregnant has any idea what a certain amount of weeks meant. When people would mention being 28 weeks pregnant, it meant literally nothing to me. Like, that's sort of far into it, right? But months actually means something. Now I see that counting in months gets a little complicated, so I'm constantly doing my best to approximate a conversion into months so that when people ask (and they always do), I can give them an answer that might make sense to them. Or I just say, "I'm due in October," and they can figure out the rest if they're interested.
My other theory is that no one really cares about your pregnancy, even when they ask you questions, so I just give quick answers in case they want to change topics quickly. I do this with most things in life, I guess, because nobody really cares about your new job or haircut or classes as much as you do, so why bore them with details they're not really listening to? Still, something about being pregnant does bring out the awkwardness in acquaintances. I was shocked at the number of people so far who have asked me if this pregnancy was planned, and still don't really know what to say to that. I think it's just about as bad when people ask if I'm happy/excited, because what if the answer is no? Do they really want to hear that? I think it's just people making conversation, but the first time somebody asked me casually if me pregnancy was planned, I was too surprised to answer at first. I think I just stared.
The other question I already hate being ask is how I feel. I always say "fine" without thinking, and then I'm usually subjected to stores of their pregnancy and illness and how very lucky I am. Which I am, because I haven't been horribly sick, but I was sick enough at the beginning that I understood why people complain about pregnancy, and thought about never wanting to do it again. Now I do mostly feel fine, but even when I feel like I might be sick at any minute, and just want to go home and take a nap, I don't usually say that. Maybe I should, just for fun.
Anyway, Sam and I are doing our best to stick to our resolutions, and not show random friends our ultrasound pictures, or tell them detailed pregnancy stories, or carry on our arguments over baby naming in front of them. I'll admit, sometimes baby names come up, but it's never started by us. In two weeks, I have an anomaly scan, and hopefully everything will be OK and we'll find out whether we're having a boy or a girl. We'll be happy either way, and mostly are just really excited to finally know. At least, I am. For now, we mostly try to look forward to each small pregnancy milestone, because October feels like another lifetime away.