I love being pregnant! Having four good ME days in a row helps. I love all the weird things happening to my body: the slightly swollen ankles, the touch of piles, even the insomnia. It’s so wonderful to have these symptoms that anchor me to a universal experience of motherhood, that are for once entirely predictable and appropriate to my condition. They’re so reassuringly knowable. It’s very comforting, and so unlike the symptoms of ME which are utterly baffling and indescribable and drive a wedge between my reality and the rest of the world’s. no words can render them in the imagination of a non-sufferer. Words like “tired” or “having a bad day” only serve to diminish their impact by rendering them commonplace.
I’m alternating between nerves at feeling unprepared for the big event and a sense of marvel at its imminence. This event that has the certainty of day and night as time slides relentlessly towards the unknown moment.
I can’t wait to see my girl’s face for the first time.
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