I thought my bump was impressive at 22 weeks. Ah how sweetly naive I was then …
I’m still two weeks away from my due date, but if I had to summarise first-time pregnancy, I’d describe it as a continual voyage of discovery. Everything is new. Everything is surprising. If we decide to have a second in the future, I don’t doubt it will still be exciting. But I can imagine many of the feelings this time round will be replaced with a comforting sense of familiarity.
The size of my bump is one constant source of surprise. Every few weeks I express that I don’t think I can get any bigger without exploding. But I obviously can. The human body is remarkable.
When I started this blog, 22 weeks pregnant, I genuinely felt like some sort of waist-less barrel. I can now happily look back at that first photo and realise this was nothing. I could still wear jeans back then. Now, my wardrobe choices have narrowed to roomy dresses, yoga pants, leggings and the contents of my husband’s wardrobe.
With this pregnancy drawing so close to the end, I’ve become a mixed bag of emotions. And, generally, much more emotional. I lost a necklace a week or so ago and cried about it in the car for about 15 minutes. I’m not by nature a crier. Sometimes I find myself stood frozen in our nursery, just staring at the little clothes all ready in preparation for our girl. At the same time, I often find myself reminiscing about the experiences of this pregnancy. Like Janus, I am looking with excitement at the future and fondness at the past.
With just two weeks left, it seems fair to say this one more time: surely I can’t grow any bigger?!
Anyone with multiple children / on a second pregnancy – how did you find the second time vs. the first? And has anyone else been constantly surprised at how big a bump can grow?!