My wife gently nudged my lifeless, bedridden body. “Honey. Honey,” she said. “Wake up.”
“Honey.” Nudge. “Guess what.” Nudge. “I’m pregnant.”
“Oh, hey,” I said all quiet, twilight-sleepy-like. “That’s great.”
And she was off.
There was the news we’d been waiting to share for a year and a half. We’re pregnant. WE’RE PREGNANT! Our first child. Although I didn’t exactly shout it in all caps at the time. I might have even dozed off again.
A few minutes later, after my mind had a chance to wake up and fully grasp what I’d been told, I joined my wife in the guest bedroom and gave her a hug and a kiss. She was already on the phone with her mom.
That day ended one journey, our journey to get pregnant. And it was a journey. I hesitate to call it “infertility,” but that’s what it was. We couldn’t get pregnant for trying. Eventually, after a year-plus, we started using over-the-counter ovulation kits, continued with doctor-advised tests and finally turned to prescription medication. The medication did the trick.
That day also began a new journey, the wonderful, miraculous and very mysterious world of pregnancy, and laid the foundation of a thousand more journeys to last the rest of our lives. I’ll do my best to journal those journeys.
My wife is 17 weeks along now. More than four months. We knew about the unwritten rules of telling friends, family and strangers and decided to just let people know when it felt right. It must feel right these days. My wife posted this on her Facebook page last week.
She feels great. She looks great. I can’t believe she’s already four months along. She’s thinking about maternity clothes, but she doesn’t need them yet if you ask me.
The baby sounds great, too, according to the doctor and the Doppler he used at our last appointment. Seeing our little “nublet” on the ultrasound at our first appointment and, later, hearing my baby’s heartbeat are moments I’ll never forget.
This is the best time of pregnancy, say our doctor and friends who have been pregnant recently, because she’s not tired all the time like she was in the first trimester and she’s not yet weighed down by a bowling ball strapped to her stomach like she will be in the third trimester.
This is also the time of pregnancy when we’re starting to realize that this is happening, and it’s a bit overwhelming thinking about everything we have ahead of us. Buy baby furniture. Buy baby clothes. Buy diapers. Buy a stroller. Buy a car seat. Buy a highchair. Buy a baby bottle and a baby pacifier and a baby rattle. Clear out the baby room. Find a place in the house for all the stuff that used to be in the baby room. Paint the baby room. Hire a professional artist to do the mural in the baby room. You get the idea. Oh heck, you’re probably nodding with approval because you’ve already been there.