20 weeks, 2 days pregnant. This time is flying by, and I want to grab this pregnancy, savor it, hang on to it for a while. I have to make a conscious effort to be present, lest I start to worry about how the heck we’re going to handle an infant…or what shape my body will be in after birth…or when my “BFF” PCOS will rear its ugly head again after the pregnancy hormones are washed clean from my system. I am sure that this is a cock-a-mammy theory (did I really just use that word?) but part of me thinks that the reason I feel so good during pregnancy is that all of the new hormones coursing through my body are bitch slapping the shit out of my high testosterone levels bestowed on me by the lovely PCOS. With the pregnancy, I feel amazing on high estrogen, HCG, and progesterone. I wish I could bottle up whatever hormone cocktail is coursing through my veins right now and save it for the day my ovaries start malfunctioning again.
I was sitting in bed yesterday morning, and Bagel started kicking something fierce. I pulled up my shirt, and saw one spot right to the right of my belly button push out and then back rhythmically 3 times. 3 whole times!!! I said, “Hi little Bagel…I see you!” And then I cried. (I’ve been crying at joyful things lately, which is not typical for me, but makes me feel strangely feminine.) The further I go into my pregnancy, the more I realize what a mind fuck PCOS has been for me my entire adult life. Anovulation is one of the most de-feminizing things I’ve experience. There’s a part of me who has slowly inched her way out of the closet during this pregnancy, and found a voice that says, I AM feminine. I AM a real woman. This is the part of me that doesn’t want this pregnancy to end because I fear she will be shut back inside and locked up by PCOS again. There are times I still feel like a fraud with a big pregnant belly. I wish I could find a way to tell the world how grateful I am to have it–that I don’t take a single day of this pregnancy for granted. I think there’s a part of me that always feels like a fraud because my body does not naturally release eggs, yet somehow, my body has become visibly symbolic of “fertility”.
BUT. Back to the present (must keep present!!) Try as I might, I can’t slow down the days, and lengthen the weekends so I can enjoy this all just a little bit longer. It’s been hard during the work week to pause and remember that Bagel is here, and this is real. Until I feel a kick. And that feeling is pretty damn amazing. And makes me cry.
If you told me 21 weeks ago that I would be 20 weeks pregnant right now, I would have laughed at you, choked down some more of my Green Drink, and “hidden” a few more of my pregnant friends off my Facebook feed.
And speaking of Facebook…I still haven’t outed myself there yet. Part of my plan was to wait until after our 20 week anatomy scan (this Friday), and then come clean. But the truth is, I get very uncomfortable every time I think about announcing my pregnancy on Facebook. I still don’t know if I will. One status post doesn’t feel like enough to explain the gratitude and relief we feel to have Bagel. Nor does one status update feel like enough to acknowledge the anxiety we felt leading up to this point, or the fact that I can’t stand the thought of hurting someone struggling with IF who catches my posts. So…I don’t know what to do. Part of me feels strange not announcing it…and part of me feels like those who are closest to me already know, and those who aren’t close to me don’t need to know. At least not right now. And then part of me thinks that there are distant cousins and friends I haven’t spoken to in a while who might appreciate the early news.
So…I’ll wait and see how it feels. And I’ll probably spend 3 hours crafting a status update if I do decide to announce on Facebook.
For now, I’m going to savor some more of Bagel’s kicks, and triple lock the basement where PCOS sulks.