The complete surprise package
Getting pregnant was only the first unexpected thing about having a baby for Nicky Park.
Despite the normalcy of my situation, it feels weird. A bit like I am a teen mum, thrust into a world I am not old enough for. When I told my boss I was pregnant I swear he said to me, ‘‘Have you told your parents yet?’’
This season, I embark on one big sweaty, sober summer. My first baby is due early March, so I have timed the third trimester almost perfectly with December 1.
While my workmates talk of getting out of the office and into a refreshing rose, I sip a dry lemonade to try to keep my acid reflux in check. While shorts slip on, I tug my dungarees down to try to hide my one swollen left foot.
Talking about being preggers can be controversial. I am very aware of friends and strangers who can’t have babies though desperately want to.
I also remember earlier this year, pre-pregnancy, when chat about midwives and Birth Care was boring and irrelevant to me, so I try to keep that to a minimum around kid-free mates.
But something changed at the end of July 2017, when I became a woman who googles such things as ‘‘can a pregnant woman eat chorizo?’’ (‘‘be cautious with cold cured meats’’).
On the back of a relaxing and indulgent European holiday, my fiance and I realised I was knocked up with a very welcome surprise.
At 33, I am just a few years over the average age of the first-time mother in New Zealand. My Facebook feed is flooded with posts of babies and bumps.
But despite the normalcy of my situation, it feels weird. A bit like I am a teen mum, thrust into a world I am not old enough for.
When I told my boss I was pregnant I swear he said to me, ‘‘Have you told your parents yet?’’
When I walked into my pregnant pilates class I felt like the mum on Gilmore Girls. ‘‘There is even one person there with that Kiwi mum haircut,’’ I told my girlfriends on Whatsapp.
With no younger siblings and limited babysitting experience on my CV, the first time I will ever be alone with a child will be when it’s my own.
I’m a curious creature so have gathered plenty of information, filtering out some guff, and picking pieces I aim to put into practice.
There’s an abundance of mummy-blogs, trendy modern mum Instagram accounts and a zillion forums, I know I am not the first woman on earth to ever have a baby. But here are the observations I have made along this pregnancy path.
Share and share alike
It’s a bonding thing, I am one of the mums now.
How about a home birth? Simply ‘‘lay down sheets like you’re painting’’ in the living room.
And be ready for the placenta, that thing is so huge, it horrifies many a birthing partner, they tell me. ‘‘It’s like a butterflied lamb, and they bring it to you on an oven tray after you’ve had the baby to see what you want to do with it.’’
All new hang-ups
Most of the stories, advice and readings I let wash over me. But there are some things that have kept me awake at night.
Mostly, it’s antenatal classes.
I listed us for seven weeks of a three-hour session after work on Wednesdays. It seemed like a big commitment, but I wanted all the time I could get to figure this out.
My fiance was backing a Saturday six-hour cram. I had heard mixed reviews about both options. I found myself getting really worked up about it. I couldn’t tell if it was pregnancy hormones or real, legitimate niggles.
I got up at 4 in the morning, and through tears wrote an email to a midwife who takes these classes. She put my mind at ease and we signed up for a day class.
As my partner said, we have limited time left for ourselves and if we can do the class in one weekend, why not? And in the end, it really wasn’t a big deal.
Breastfeeding is hard
Like literally, bloody hard. One mum told me about the ‘‘strawberry milkshake’’ situation she found herself in trying to feed her babies. Sounds like it takes practise, determination and lots and lots of merino nipple pads.
Will I feel hot again?
The breastfeeding situation sounds like that’s the end of my body being something I use for fun, now it’s all about function.
I can’t tell if the extra 16kg on the scales are placenta and fluid retention from my swollen left foot, or if it’s down to the extra slices of carrot cake and continual carbo loading.
Will the light fluff on my tummy go away? Will I ever have a proper belly button again?
‘‘One time I sneezed and got another stretch mark,’’ says strawberry milkshake mum.
Right now I baste myself morning and night in coconut cooking oil in a bid to keep my skin free of too many trails, but I’m prepped for battle scars.
Will my fiance be able to forget about how I laid about hot and bothered like Homer Simpson, snacking on a bag of chips?
The perfect name
We have three names on the final list for boys – one is my favourite, one is the baby daddy’s and the third is one we are both pretty happy with.
We are going to wait till the little guy is born before we make that final call (I am pretty sure I should win that battle after what my body will go through).
Even though we are happy with our shortlist, I feel like I should continue searching for ‘‘the perfect name’’. Is it out there, this mythical name? How do I find more names? Am I OK with the one we are ‘‘pretty happy with’’?
What I do know is that it’s not on the bogan baby list.
My FOMO is aching
I am very excited to embrace my next chapter as a mum, and I know that whatever plans I have willingly come second to the needs of our baby boy.
But I am a severe sufferer of FOMO (you know, fear of missing out).
When my fiance purchased tickets to a gig that I thought I would be too pregnant to stand for, I lost it (and got a ticket anyway). I put him in the dog box for enjoying a boozy weekend away with his mates.
I have been in tears over the last months, in a tizz about what I am missing out on, and will have to say no to.
I am sure when I hold my cute as a button baby the intense FOMO will fade, replaced with a desire to spend every moment with this little guy.
I know every baby and mother runs their own race, and that we will have to be adaptable.
Even though I’m not the first woman to do this, it’s the first time I have, and my experience is unique.