Monday, 13 July 2009

Poke, poke....Anyone in there?

I snuck through my first trimester without morning sickness, my worst symptoms being increased tiredness and a sudden aversion to salmon and asparagus. I'm not complaining or pining for nausea, however without some of the stereotypical tell-tale signs of pregnancy, sometimes I wondered if there really was a little one in there. Girls that were holding their head over a toilet bowl 4 times/day may want to scoff at me, but it's how I felt.  With no bump and nothing but tender and slightly enlarged breasts to show for my new status, at first I found it hard to connect with our baby.

I've since read that by now our little lemon (according to that is the size of our baby this week) can feel it if I poke my belly, so I've been poking away and encouraging Chris to do the same. He doesn't like to poke too hard, but I take a more firm approach. I want to let the lemon know that mom and dad are saying hello. So we're now starting to connect.

I'm also just starting to show. I'd say around 13 weeks my waist began to "thicken," with no blatantly visible bump in regular clothes but with a new fullness that is more visible in tighter outfits. There hasn't been any great change in the last week, however today I got my first "I thought you could be pregnant comment." Lucky that I am.

I was waiting to ask my pilates teacher a question after class and decided to share my news with another woman who was about to hear my pregnancy related question. She smiled at me and said something like: "I thought you might be pregnant. You are usually so small with a flat waist, but today I thought you looked either pregnant or like you'd had a big meal." Whew that I actually am pregnant, or else clearly all the pizza, bagels, dinners out and home cooked food a la mama had taken their toll on my body! At least she waited for me to share the news at the risk of deflating my perceived body image.

Maybe one of these days one of the kind folk on the train will take similar notice and offer me a seat on the way into work? I do love standing in sweaty manpits but think I could make the sacrifice without too many tears. I think I may still have a little way to go there though. And I suspect I may have to not be so British about it and just ask for a seat if I need it. Hey, I've been standing for years and will stand in future - my time in a guaranteed seat is surely dawning!
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