Pregnancy, like IVF, has many milestones.
In IVF, every little milestone that you clear brings you closer to your goal: the number of follicles you have, the number of eggs retrieved, the number of eggs fertilised etc.
In pregnancy, the milestones come in the form of weeks. That first ultrasound at six weeks to detect the heartbeat. At 12 weeks when the OSCAR testing is done (assuming you go for it). When you clear the first trimester at 14 weeks. Hitting the midway mark at 20 weeks. Entering the third trimester at 28 weeks. 32 weeks when the baby’s lungs are strong enough for higher chances of survival should he make an early appearance. Full-term at 37 weeks. Reaching your due date at 40 weeks. Birth.
I hadn’t realised just how much I was looking forward to the milestones until last week, when we hit 32 weeks. It was only when I explained to Mr Thick the significance of getting to 32 weeks that I found myself heaving a mental sigh of relief.
Gotta keep that in mind when the bubs is born.
My little man has been awesome so far. His kicks aren’t too heavy-footed and I only squirm when he seemingly flips around my insides. It’s a very strange sensation, like someone swiping at your skin from within. It makes me freeze and hold my breath, which is, of course, the last thing you should do. During the occasional time when I wish I could have my old body back, I think about how fun it has been to incubate the little man. I think about how I should live in the present and enjoy this fleeting moment, something that I would never get back.
Many people say that they can track a fixed pattern to their baby’s movements but this mama can’t. The nugget is really unpredictable. Some days he shakes his little ass vigorously at midday, some days he flutters around in the evenings and then when you think you’ve got his schedule pinned down, he does a no-show.
Until this translates into the sleeping pattern of a BABY.
On Saturday, I was walking to the MRT station with Mr Thick when I suddenly felt the muscles deep in my left butt cheek pop twice. GAH! I thought I had pulled a muscle – it had been aching on and off over the past week – and resorted to walking like a grandmother. The pain only flares up when I walk too fast (bad, bad habit) or stand for too long, and I didn’t think much about it.
It wasn’t till my cousins told me that I was definitely carrying my tiny human much lower than a week before (!!!) then it hit me that maybe what I have been feeling isn’t a muscular problem afterall. It could be a combination of the weight of the uterus pressing down onto my pelvis and the hormones loosening my joints and ligaments in preparation for the birth.
In short, SUCK IT UP.
Till the next milestone.