HELP I'm pregnant!

If you know me BREATHE!!!....I’m NOT pregnant...now!!! A miracle hasn’t occurred (highly unlikely anyway as it would have to be another immaculate conception!)  Rest assured folks I remain WAY beyond the baby making stage as Melanie Menopause has been my pal for the last 6 years and she’s not gonna allow any pesky eggs to encroach her space!!!! 

This, is the first of a series of blogs which will track the journey of parenting from conception to the time when you're strumming your fingers on the dining room table as you face a fully grown adult who's making all the choices you hate, yet defiantly reminds you they're grown even though they still behave like they're two when the mood takes them.

This blog is:  YIPPEE I'm having a baby" and "OH NO, I'm having a baby!" (for those caught off guard, or those of us depressed at changing roles from free young thing, to responsible mature thing!)

Now I was lucky!!

Whilst not in the 'I can't wait to have a baby, dream camp' commencing as soon as puberty hit, I wasn't averse to welcoming a mini me/him into the world.  The thought of cute baby clothes, cuddly toys and the most gorgeous creature cooing up at me, was a thrill.  This delightful thing would bond me like glue to my husband as we shared our mutual self-satisfaction of creating another human being (hopefully in one of our images).  The bond that would grow with love and satisfaction at seeing our little miracle grow.  Oh the delight, the sheer bliss, the ecstasy...

Then the REALITY!!!!

REALITY 1

sick   nausea    sick    nausea    sick    nausea    sick   nausea    and more    sick!!!

It hits you like a silent Creeper from nowhere.  The Creeper's called the Creeper because you never know when it's coming.  It does however, have an irritating knack of coming at the most inappropriate times:  In a queue, on the bus, at work, in the middle of a conversation with the next door neighbour...ANYWHERE!  Some people call the Creeper, Morning Sickness!  They're WRONG...'cos mornings can stretch into the entire day and afternoon and night!  At this stage you become more familiar with the toilet bowl than with any other person you know, and if you're really, really sick, you prefer the toilet!

REALITY 2

Even if you’re lucky to stay stick thin, your raging, changing, hip-hopping hormones make you feel like you ate an elephant (vomit), look like an elephant (in your mind only) and your mammary glands become so painful you’d love to donate to someone else because you don’t want them!  And all of this from the get-go when baby is less than an inch big and looks like a mutant alien from a Science Fiction film.

REALITY 3

As if the metamorphosis from my body, to my body shared or stolen wasn’t enough there are the inevitable panics…..
Panic 1-Child birth pain!
Solution???...It's called: 'One born every minute' or any other child birth programme we can find!  This compulsion to watch keeps us glued to the screen to witness pregnant mums screaming and groaning because of the tremendous pain they can't stand.  The women cursing at their partner 'cos for once they can!  The emergencies where mum or baby nearly die!....That's what we need....A good dose of reality!

Panic 2-Will it be healthy?
Will the baby have the right number of toes and fingers?
Will it have a nose?!
Panic 3-Will I be a good parent?
Will I make enough money to live comfortably?
Will I want to leave baby and return to work?
Panic 4-Which school will he/she go to?
Which Uni?
Which area to live in?

Panic 5-Success
S'pose she can't sing and dance like Beyonce?
S'pose she can't squeeze into lycra like Kim Kardashian?
S'pose he won't make the Sport Squad?

And all of this from the get-go when baby is less than an inch big and looks like a mutant alien from a Science Fiction film.  Anything sound familiar?


Stay tuned for: Mothering-The first Baby Bump Scan.  The ride gets bumpier (pardon the pun)!

LB  xxx

 www.lbbacchus.com