I spent the first 12 weeks of my pregnancy being exceptionally worried about the state of our fetus and whether it would live. I went for a private scan already in week eight to make sure that there was a heartbeat, and once the 13-week scan was coming up I cried with worry as I entered the examining room. Let me tell you, this is not how I thought I’d be. I thought I’d be very calm, content, and that I would trust the process, like the rational person I am. That seems extremely naive now, considering how the progress of a pregnancy is well beyond one’s control.
I calmed down significantly after the 13-week scan, but the thought of buying baby clothes or thinking about buggies or cribs still seemed light-years away. I went to the physiotherapist because of back pain which turned out to be PGP, and when she mentioned that I could join a mummy-baby training group to regain strength after giving birth I got emotional to the point where I had to turn away. The fact that my growing tummy will result in an actual human being is still very abstract and difficult to grasp. I can’t really see myself buying baby clothes without crying hehe, so I can’t picture a scenario where I’ll go into a shop and successfully buy baby clothes as if it was no big deal.
Luckily, we have heaps of clothes at home from when the big kids were babies. But I’ve put that off, too. There’s oceans of time still, it’s not like there’s a rush. But I think I’ve put it off because I’ve been scared to feel all the feels that are simmering underneath.
It sort of changed today, when I took a big, little step and went through a single box of clothes and disentangled a beautiful, wooden baby mobile with the help of the 12-yo. And then we put it up, right above where we will put the crib. Once we’ve bought a crib, that is. Knowing the new mama me (omg), it will likely take another few months to get to that point.