Today I am officially in the second trimester. I am 14 weeks today. Some people consider 12 weeks as the beginning of the 2nd trimester, some people think it’s 13 weeks depending on where Google takes you. But at 14 weeks, I am definitely, OFFICIALLY in my 2nd trimester.
It’s still so surreal that we are at this point. After taking so long to conceive, to suddenly be over a third of the way through my pregnancy, I kind of feel like “where the fuck has the time gone?”
The past 10 weeks since discovering we were expecting, have been blurred into an existence of being super tired, eating EVERY FUCKING THING IN SIGHT, waking up at the same time every night for a wee, and occasionally crying at the most ridiculous things (like when I dropped a fish finger on the floor, and thereby ruining my carefully planned fish finger sandwich).
There have been some significant events: our private 8 week scan where we saw little Cub beating away for the first time, me getting struck down with a bad tummy bug and having to get checked out at the hospital because of a dangerously high temperature, attending The Baby Show in London with my mum and purchasing our travel system, having our 12 week scan and feeling immense relief that everything was okay, and announcing our news to the world.
Dave and I have started discussing practicalities like sorting out the spare room, I’ve remortgaged the house to release £5K of equity to help with maternity leave pay, and we’ve got so excited about finding out what we’re having and revealing it over Christmas.
I’ve loved showing off my bump in maternity gear, or figure hugging clothing. My heart absolutely melts when Dave holds my tummy and talks to Cub and kisses it every morning and night. Our relationship really has got stronger and stronger. Which has been indescribably… deserving… because of his very dark days back in April and May when I thought I would lose him to his mental health issues. I’m not exaggerating when I say that.
My boobs have hurt less, but they are definitely bigger – I really do need to invest in some maternity bras this weekend. My appetite is still as ravenous as ever, my tiredness is hard to pinpoint down to pregnancy or my job, and I’m seeing the peeing-in-the-night-every-night-at-2am as practice for the night feeds.
New feelings have been stabby vag, the beginnings of round ligament pain, and extreme dizziness – particularly yesterday morning where I thought I couldn’t drive to work because I felt drunk. I kept stumbling to my right hand side, and when I sat on the loo when I first got up, it felt like I was in some nightclub toilets trying to stay upright after one too many Archers and lemonades…
I’m excited to feel the first flutters soon, although I know I need to be patient because I may not feel them for a while due to my anterior placenta. I just can’t stop eyeing up and stroking my growing bump. It doesn’t feel real.
None of this feels real to be honest. It still feels like I’m pretending at being pregnant and sticking my tummy out to convince myself. Because I’ve had such an easy pregnancy (so far) I feel like I’m just carrying on as normal like I did before I was pregnant.
I’m sure when I feel that first proper kick I will start to believe this is actually happening. In the meantime I will happily blame everything and anything on the excuse of me being pregnant. Why not? I’ve waited this long.
And I never take it for granted. Not a single day.