It’s weird now that everyone knows. It’s like we’re officially pregnant now the knowledge is ‘out there’.
It was only this Tuesday that we were sat in A&E debating whether or not we were looking at an awful situation but two days on people are slapping us on the back and offering their congratulations.
It seems to cement it, somehow. I consider this to be a good thing.
We’ve both been very pleased at the reactions we’ve had. It’s been fun being able to break such good news. The memories of those reactions will live with us forever.
I find myself looking at my parents in a different light, too.
No one wants to think of their parents conceiving them or indeed anyone else. But they did. In the case of my parents they did it four times. Suddenly I’m interested in their pregnancy and birth stories. Things I’d never considered before reveal themselves. Did they have any complications? What cravings did my mother have? I’m curious to hear how they coped.
I begin to see my father in a different light. He went through quite a traumatic experience with my younger brother. He was asked to choose to save either his wife or his unborn son. Thankfully both were saved but it must have been an awful dark moment in his life. I wonder how I’d manage under that pressure. I hope I never have to find out.
I begin to realise that no two pregnancies are the same and that they are very rarely straightforward. Somehow the moments make it all worthwhile. Feeling the first kick, hearing the heartbeat and finally, holding the child in your arms.
I can’t wait for that.