Figuring It All Out.

When I lived in Japan, I spent the first few months feeling homesick. This feeling usually sank in in the evenings, after I’d have an overstimulating day full of unexpected barriers and I’d do what I could to remedy it by falling asleep to Sex and the City reruns or drinking and eating copious amounts of mystery meat on sticks. I wasn’t homesick for specific things, really, at least not that I can remember almost ten years later, but for that feeling of having it all figured out; knowing the challenges I was going to encounter on a day to day basis, more or less. I’d come from the safe cradle of university where all the most basic things were provided.

Once I came to realize that that feeling was a fairly artificial one, and it wasn’t Japan, but the life I was beginning to build that felt uncertain and scary because I had no idea what it looked like, I found myself more eager to face each day with a sense of adventure rather than dread.

I’m already halfway through my pregnancy. It crept up on me quickly, most of the last eight weeks since we climbed over the barbed wire fence that is the first trimester being eaten up with work challenges and trying to stay awake and be present when I found myself dreaming of my couch, Sushi curled up by my side while she still fit there.

Up until last week, the state of being and remaining pregnant ticked away in my head while I’d go about my day, mentally bemoaning my wardrobe and stopping to eat far more often than I would have normally. I’ve been fortunate to have a very easy pregnancy so far (knock on all the wood). Last week, the growing belly in front of me starting twitching and fluttering inside, and the reality that, in the few short months our lives were going to be forever altered started to set in, and I found myself feeling insecure about what the future looks like. I understand that this is a natural-type of feeling that I’m sure most women find themselves faced with, especially those that have jobs that consume a fair amount of their lives, and lifestyles that, while won’t have to be adjusted majorly because Matt and I are very old at heart, and very, very boring, will be impacted by being responsible for another human, along with all the other things they’re currently responsible for.

This week, the flutters have evolved to kicks. I find myself smiling when I can relate them to something I’ve eaten, as if his tiny personality is taking shape with every gulp of embryonic fluid post-ice cream cone.

You’ll maybe notice I said “he”. I’m having a boy. We got a very clear shot of boy at my 20 week ultrasound last Friday. He looks a lot more like a baby now than he did at 14 weeks, which is both thrilling and terrifying. He also likes yogurt and bananas a lot, at least via my digestive system. I spent about twenty minutes apologizing to the ultrasound tech as she chastised me for having a wiggly fetus while she was attempting to take measurements.

I had a lunch meeting today, and perhaps because we sat down quickly, or because it wasn’t someone I knew well, or maybe because it’s very rude to assume women are pregnant at any weight, it didn’t come up. It was strange to step back, to be myself without being pregnant, even for a few hours, and it was after that that I realized that, without even being aware, I’d adjusted to my new state better than I’d thought.

We’ll see how I do when I can’t see my feet anymore.