I am a mom. I have been a while, over the past few years, precisely. On occasion I feel like I'm not, like I'm back to my younger years of escaping boring classes and experimenting with concealer but where I am now is a gift, a mountain high privilege. I conceive children easily, so far it took a fortnight in both cases to experience the first unpleasant symptoms. Preparing the nursery is just a formality. I tend to get through the pregnancy without struggle, mostly thriving in mild nausea, heartburn and occasional leg cramp. Breathlessness and backache, that is a bonus. I keep myself extremely active too, walking my legs off and being super pleased about being able to.
This time around it's been harder, with my ligaments softening quicker and challenging most of my moves yet it still feels bearable. The Mount Everest climb I compare my pregnancy to is about to be completed. The tough, unpredictable way up (first trimester) surprised me with the same sweet tooth I had while carrying Nadia and made me falling asleep on the bus while doing school runs so most of it seems to me like a blur. It drew on anxiety and mood swings, present fears and future inconveniences, discoveries of sorts. Humour and passing time helped me climb it fast. Once I reached the surface of a safe zone (second trimester), it felt I could do it in a heartbeat while working hard, planning ahead and following new guidelines. Anxiety has settled, some conversations took place leaving us inspired and in control of the days and emotions still to come and love, gratitude from experiencing it all again was constantly growing with renewed energy and invigoration. Now I'm on my way down (third trimester), inspired, assured, in awe of the scale of love I feel and faith in us knowing we can get through everything, our personal fears and misconceptions, highs and lows included. The road down is tough and unpredictable, I can do less and less I commit myself to. I rely on more people, say no more often, walk away almost immediately. This time is almost sacred, with more thoughts but also equal number of fears with labour taking the lead. My backpack is heavy and oxygen bottle gets lighter daily. My body performs almost an impossible task and struggles to meet my needs. Yet it evolves perfectly to make me a mother again. I believe the climb down will be memorable, he may take his time or decide to greet us anyday now (32 weeks seem to be still way too early but who knows, I am ready for him as I have always been).
I will be a mom again. I have decided to be a mom again.
It felt right raising Nadia on her own for so long I don't remember the exact time it felt awkward. Somehow missing on something. A sibling. Around end of last summer when we didn't go to Poland for our annual summer holiday (immigration crisis, blockages at the Channel Tunnel, etc.) I found myself articulating the desire to bring another child to our home. Shake things up, says Damian. Love someone, I say. I know that this topic would come around sooner or later, I have been sitting on a fence for a while knowing what I really wanted. Although you can never predict your future, you have to make things happen or at least have them be spoken out loud. For a brief time I hesitated. Life was good, work was fine, it felt cosy and permanent. Yet it's only coming together now, with our family about to expand with everyone congratulating and supporting. It felt good but now it feels right.
Thank you to everyone that is supporting us in our new role. You don't know how much it means to me. xxx