The first time I was pregnant, I savoured every moment. I was so thrilled to be having a baby. I was 31 and had been trying a while and when at last it happened, I was just blown away. I felt really special despite the fact the women have babies every day – I really couldn’t believe it was happening to me.
The whole experience fascinated me; the fact I needed to buy bigger bras at only 9 weeks pregnant and no-one but my nearest and dearest new this amazing secret, the first flutters of movement and then my ever expanding belly.
I soaked in every moment and relished the achy legs and the tiredness. I’d come home from work and fall asleep on the settee. Apart from this I was well! I had no sickness or other common pregnancy ailments. I read the magazines and the catalogues of baby things and hunted for bargains for all the things that I needed. Even when I went way past my due date (15 days in the end) I wasn’t bothered – I loved being pregnant.
When Evie was born the fascination just continued. I thought that it was just incredible that my body made all the food that she needed until she was six months old and I savoured the moments that we had when she was a tiny baby. I thought that if this is the only chance that I every get to do this, then I better remember all these moments – the good and the testing!
And now here I am pregnant again. I’m 22 weeks and I don’t know where the time has gone. I haven’t had a chance to sit and take in the moments and I’m worried that I’m missing the experience. Everyone said that I should make the most of having my first as it would never be the same again and they were so right. This time I am really tired; when you already have a child, there is no having a nap after work, no not being bothered to do anything at all sometimes.
Maybe it’s my age! Time really does fly as you get older. Maybe it’s my profession! As a teacher, my life is cut into chunks – I’m constantly counting down the weeks until the next holiday and now I can just see 1 week half term holiday, a six week half term, a six week holiday, 2 weeks back at work and then it’ll be pretty much my due date. Maybe it’s because I just don’t know when to stop and sit down and stop taking on new things. I’m so worried that I’m going to blink and miss it.
So how do I slow this time down? My first baby is now 3 years old and where the heck has that time gone? I want her to stay little - as much as she is a little monkey, she doesn’t half make me laugh, but she is already losing her innocence and says such grown up things, whether she really knows what they mean or not.
Of course, I am equally excited at being pregnant this time and can’t wait to welcome our new member of the family, but I’m so worried that I’m going to look back and wonder where my life and my children’s childhood went.