We found out that I was pregnant about 3 days before we moved from our apartment in the East Village to our apartment on the Upper West Side, right at the end of April, with a due date of January 7th. This all happened a lot sooner than we'd both expected. With all of the scary rhetoric out there about women older than 35 and our declining fertility rates, you'd think that our ovaries shriveled up before even having the chance to blow out the candles on our 35th birthday cake. I'd mentally prepared myself for a longer haul, and we recognize how lucky we are that wasn't the case for us. I can thank good genes on my side -- my mom had me when she was 39 (only a few months older than I'll be when I deliver) and my mom's sister had her second baby in her late 40s.
And because of all that data around women over the age of 35 -- not just declining fertility but also fetal development issues and miscarriage rates -- I was anxious for the first several weeks, while Matt was excited beyond belief. I initially thought this was poor judgment: why would you let yourself get so excited and run the risk of being disappointed? (You can tell my therapist and I have a lot to talk about every week.) But when I mentioned it to a friend of mine, he told me that his one regret during his wife's pregnancy is that they didn't let themselves get excited; that they were consistently anxious and worried about every little thing, so that by the time everything seemed good they felt like they'd missed out on this exciting time of fun anticipation that they'd never be able to have again. That stuck with me, and I made a point to let myself get happy and excited with each passing week, to just enjoy the moment.
Still, I was uneasy walking into our first appointment with our doctor. Even the nurse who took my blood pressure commented that my BP was pretty high and asked if anything was making me anxious. "Yeah, uh, this. Right now." Thankfully, my friends referred me to the best OB in New York. She is one of the quirkiest people I've ever met: she has a dry sense of humor and a bit of a frenetic energy about her, speaking in a fast, staccato-like manner, and walks in to every appointment with odd anecdotes about her day. Yet, at the same time, she's disarming and was able to put me at ease immediately. "Hi Mom! Hi Dad! Let's check this kid out."
I'm not an outwardly emotional person -- to be clear, I feel things deeply, but it all happens on the inside because why would I show that to other people? -- but hearing that quick little hummingbird heartbeat for the first time was overwhelming. I'm not even sure I thought it was real until I heard that and saw the little peanut on the ultrasound, and all I could do was weep. "Tears are good!" my OB noted. "Good job, Mom! Feel better now?" On the way home after the walk-through with the doctor of what to expect for the next 30-or-so weeks, I found myself carrying myself a bit more carefully now that such precious cargo had been confirmed for this skeptic.
Our first meal in our new apartment was Gray's Papaya hot dogs, so we dubbed the baby "Papaya," at least until we knew what his sex would be. Being of "advanced maternal age" does have some pros -- since we had to do chromosomal testing we got to find out the baby's sex earlier than one normally would, around week 11. This meant that we found out on Father's Day, which also happened to be Matt's birthday. I was in California for my niece's college graduation, so I asked if Matt wanted to wait until I got home to find out together. "PLEASE can we find out now?! It's my BIRTHDAY!" So, for his birthday, Matt got a Y-chromosome. Truth be told I think he was hoping for a girl, but we both agreed that a healthy baby was the only thing we cared about.
By and large, I've had an easy pregnancy, and it sounds like I have my maternal genes to thank for that, too. I only had one day of true morning sickness; any nausea was only within the first 6 weeks or so and was paired with cravings, so as long as I got that cheeseburger or Domino's Pizza I was craving within about 15 minutes, I was good to go. My first and second trimester symptoms were fairly mild -- some fatigue early on and a little bit of discomfort here and there -- and in some cases, odd -- acne on my neck and hairline? WTF. I would even go so far to say that I even enjoyed pregnancy in the first 25-30 weeks. My third trimester, however, has been harder. As the baby and I put on more weight, there's more pressure on the body and it's just tiring to carry everything around. Your body truly is not your own when you're pregnant. I hit a wall at least once where I felt like I couldn't handle much more of it. Thankfully, I was able to climb over the wall and see that most of what I'm struggling with has a shelf-life (at least until I give birth and have a whole new set of symptoms and maladies I get to enjoy).
With that I'd like to take the opportunity to rate the different pregnancy symptoms on a scale of 1-10. Of course, this is all based on my own personal experience and is only a subset of symptoms I experienced -- everyone's pregnancy is different.
Heartburn: 4/10
Pros: Alka Seltzer chews are surprisingly tasty.
Cons: Literally everything causes it.
Leg cramps: 2/10
Pros: Excuse to take epsom salt baths at 1am.
Cons: Prevented falling sleep on a given night.
Swollen nasal passages and snoring: 5/10 (Matt's rating: 2/10)
Pros: I can't tell that I'm snoring; get to bring back Breathe Right nasal strips into the fashion zeitgeist.
Cons: Keeps Matt up at night; also causes bloody noses due to my paternal genes.
Bigger boobs: 5/10 (Matt's rating: 10/10)
Pros: Pair nicely with the belly.
Cons: They did not need to be any bigger.
Burping and gas: 3/10
Pros: Can clear out a room if needed.
Cons: Can clear out a room unintentionally.
Hemorrhoids: -100/10
Pros: Absolutely none.
Cons: Constant discomfort all night and day; regrets of not buying stock in GSK as I kept their entire Prep H vertical in business.
Feeling (and seeing) the kid kick and move: 12/10
Pros: Can reenact the scene from Aliens; awesome to feel what he reacts to (music, Matt's voice).
Cons: Honestly, none. It's always cool, even when I'm trying to sleep.
Worsened eye sight: 3/10
Pros: Excuse to step away from the computer for a bit.
Cons: Can't fucking see.
Thicker hair: 8/10
Pros: Less likely to clog the shower drain.
Cons: Will need to have the plumber on speed dial once the kid is born.
Ability to balance items on belly: 7/10
Pros: Cool party trick, makes folding laundry easier.
Cons: Can't see feet. Need to use feet to pick up things off the floor.
Strangers congratulating you: 7/10
Pros: Nice sentiment; conversation starter with neighbors.
Cons: People talking to you.
Strangers touching you: 0/10
Pros: None.
Cons: Strangers touching you.
Nesting: 6/10
Pros: Get a lot done around the house.
Cons: Not convinced this isn't just my regular ADHD.
Constantly hot: 5/10
Pros: Don't need a coat in the winter.
Cons: Sweating. Always sweating.
Sally has been a diligent caretaker over the last several months, ensuring I have everything I need at any given moment, and is ready to meet her little brother. Her current favorite pastime is taking early morning naps with him whenever the opportunity arises, though it hasn't stopped her from stealing one of his baby gifts the first chance she got (two months later she still refuses to give it back).
Because we're that couple, we'd already had a name picked out from before we were married, but have kept it close to the vest until the kid arrives because, as we've come to find out, everyone has an opinion or advice (usually unsolicited) on everything relating to pregnancy, babies, and parenting. It has made for delightful conversations filled with lots of nods, smiles, and "...cool"s or "oh, that's... that's good to know"s.
All that aside, one piece of guidance we've gotten from some parents who have slightly older kids is to enjoy the remaining time we have to ourselves when our schedules are our own, and we've done our best to take that to heart. We've made an effort (Matt is much better at this than I) to go on dinner dates and nice walks with Sally in the park, and to just sit and do nothing on the weekends. We know the time we have left to do that with just the two of us is fleeting, so we're trying to soak it up.
For me, though, on a deeper level, I've found the need to use this time to not only appreciate this last bit of independence, but also properly mourn it. So much of what we (or at least what I) see on social media and elsewhere nowadays is that parenting is the worst and rarely enjoyable. People love their kids, but they don't like their kids and in some cases resent them for this life they're now forced to lead. I'm not naive -- parenting is one of the hardest things I'll ever have to do. But early on I knew I didn't want to walk into it with this feeling that this kid had ripped something away from me. I wanted to say that I was able to celebrate and close the door on this specific chapter and walk gladly into a new one.
So, it begs the question -- are we ready for this new chapter? We're about as ready as we can be. From a logistics standpoint, we've taken the classes and read the books, we've set up the nursery (well, about as much of a nursery as one can have in a New York City apartment where every room needs to serve multiple purposes), we've got the stroller / car seat. Mostly, we know there's going to be a lot that we don't know and can't predict -- the kid is going to come out with a personality all his own, which is the biggest variable of all -- so it's less about us being ready and more that we're open to whatever comes our way, and we're confident that as generally smart and thoughtful people we'll figure it all out eventually. We really just want to keep the kid healthy (read: alive) while also maintaining some semblance of sanity through the sleep deprivation. Then we'll focus on not contributing too much to his therapy fodder in his adult life.
Coming into this new era, I have found myself wishing, and still wishing, that my mom was here. I've had a lot of questions about her own pregnancy (and labor) experiences, but mostly I just know she'd be so excited for her only daughter to go through this special and unique time. It would have offered a bond that only a mother and daughter can share and I don't think I realized until becoming pregnant and getting ready for motherhood how much I still crave that connection with her. In absence of that connection, one lesson stands out in terms of how she operated as a parent: she loved her kids hard. Whatever issues or disagreements we may have had with her as kids and into adulthood, we never ever doubted that she loved us, and that's something I always want to be true for this kid (and his future sibling(s)).
Honestly, we're just excited to meet the little dude that's been kicking the shit out of me for the last several months. We know he likes music and the sound of Matt's voice and has long eyelashes and hair (per my OB based on what she sees on the ultrasound), and he likes it when I eat especially tasty food. All of that tracks with the things that Matt and I both like. So, yeah, we think he'll be a pretty cool kid. But, obviously, we're a bit biased. Aren't all parents?
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