“We have to continually be jumping off cliffs and developing our wings on the way down.”
— Kurt Vonnegut
We just announced on social media that I’m 12 weeks pregnant (13 weeks tomorrow, actually) but we’ve been telling family and friends since week 6. Maybe some of you were already suspecting something was up in my last entry when I was talking about my trips to the hospital and my one week horror of horrors bout with sickness.
We didn’t think I’d be pregnant that minute we landed back in Manila. I tell my friends that I would laugh off my doctor’s proclamation that I will be pregnant after Christmas because I developed polycystic ovary syndrome last year and I was skeptical that the regimen she put me through would get me fertile right away. Well, what do you know, I got knocked up the instant I first ovulated again.
In spite of the constant discomfort I’m going through (heart burn, hyperacidity, never-ending nausea, more frequent migraine attacks, never-ending bathroom trips, insomnia, etc.), I’m still so surprised how healthy this pregnancy has been registering at every doctor’s visit we have. Even during the week where I threw up every single day, I was so shocked to discover that I still managed to gain 2 pounds. Gah! I’m still keeping my fingers crossed though.
I’m still in a state of shock. I nearly forgot that we also hit another important milestone at the start of the year. It’s been two years since I quit my day job and went on my own and I’ve been reflecting at how we’ve able to make it this far. Two years is infinitesimal but two years (give or take) has always been the longest duration of the jobs I liked the most. I have always suspected I have ADD and I guess working from home has been the best decision I’ve ever made because I see no signs of getting sick of it yet.
I remember telling my last boss that I wanted to start working from home because I wanted to be a work-at-home mom. There was also the idea of being in control of my time and my choice of clients (plus the potential to earn more!) that really motivated me, but the special reason was a family-based reason. At that time, Joel and I were in no position to be parents (and we’re still wrestling with that until now) but it was always a vision we had even before we got married.
It was part of our impetus for getting married. We love to work, to travel, and to hang out with friends — same as a lot of people that we know, but we are also idealistic mush balls that dreamed about having a family even while we were total drunken, irresponsible shits.
And now that parenthood is a mere 6 months away, we can’t believe that the choices we’ve been making has paved the way for all this to happen.
I’m still so, so scared though. I have cringed when people call me “mommy” and on many occasions, have wanted to lash out during the early years of my marriage when people kept touching my stomach and asking if there was anything in there yet. I’m also waging a private rebellion within myself to resist dasters and matrona-dom. I don’t romanticize motherhood at all and I worry that might become my undoing. Joel was the one tearing up at our ultrasounds while I was gaping and trying to study how the machine freaking worked.
Children frighten me and a lot of them are afraid of me too. But at the same time I remember moments like when I rocked my wailing infant niece to dreamland and when I used to assist teaching toddlers and they once crowded around me and a little girl rested her chin on my knee when I was reading them a storybook.
I just have to smile sometimes and know that this is how we’ve chosen to live out our lives. It’s been a constant dance number with risk but we really can’t have it any other way. It’s how we feel alive and feel bigger than ourselves. We always manage to figure it out, that I know.