Bonded Together

I’ve written a few times about not really enjoying pregnancy and losing sight of the fact that we’re soon to be parents.  I don’t want to look back, though, and think it was all rotten. Once again I curse diabetes, because if it weren’t for that, I think I’d probably be loving this pregnancy lark.

Granted, I suffered with horrible morning sickness and the lack of sleep and horrible heartburn are not joyous, But I love my body confidence. Not having to suck my tummy in, and feeling a beautiful, womanly shape. I love feeling Flangelina kick and roll inside me, jutting their limbs out. I like how he or she always pokes me in the morning, as if they are stretching out and saying “Good Morning Mummy”.

Selfishly I like my lovely nails and sleek, shiny hair that doesn’t shed a million strands with every brush.I like the stretchy, comfy clothes, and the cast-iron excuse for throwing fashion out of the window in favour of comfort.

I like the anticipation, wondering if I’m cooking a boy or girl, wondering what they’ll look like and the little person they’ll turn out to be. I like the attention of strangers enquiring after my bump and when I’m due, and even complimenting me on it.

Most of all though, I like the attachment. Ironically what I love the most is also what makes me the most anxious. It’s the fear of what my body’s deficiencies might be doing to my baby that makes me so worried, and so keen to have them here in my arms. But I also realise that right now my baby and I are closer than we’ll ever be again. Bonded together in way that we can’t be for much longer, and can never be again. I want to cherish that aspect of this pregnancy above all else. And remember it forever.


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