I have grown. Proof? 13 weeks.
I’m going to admit. The growing is hard. I have always taken care of my body, obsessed and worried about it at times, perhaps. I’ve noticed minuscule weight changes and shifted eating habits and exercise to accommodate. I have spent so much mental energy and time keeping myself healthy.
This weight change hasn’t been miniscule. I am not one of those women who can hide her first growing baby until halfway through. I’ve put on 11 pounds in 16 weeks. Most of my pants can no longer be buttoned around my bump. I’ll admit it; it’s hard to watch it happen. It’s normal, it’s expected, it’s healthy, but it’s hard. I watch my growing belly, knowing it’s never going to be the same, knowing I may develop the craggy lines of stretch marks, knowing my belly button will one day look unrecognizable. My life is changing, and it’s starting here, right at the centre of me.
But, there’s an upside to the bump. An amazing, kind of mind-blowing upside that everyone knows but no one really elaborates on much. Every so often, somewhere deep in my stomach, I feel an odd kind of shift I’ve never felt before, like something is pressing up against the inside of my skin. It’s a reminder, my little boy or girl affirming to me that this is something I want, something I prayed for, something I can’t wait to come to fruition. Losing my baby-less body is scary, but when he or she gives me a little poke, I know it’s a sacrifice I won’t regret.