The weather has been really warm lately, especially for this area. Usually it is sill in the 30s or 40s, but it has been anywhere from 85 to 65 for the past weeks, which is making me remember when I first got pregnant. It was so warm then. The musty smell of humidity, thick wind, open windows, being extremely thirsty--all of these are bringing the morning sickness to the forefront of my mind, and the strange, electric stillness that encircled me when I made the discovery.
I feel selfish to say this now, but I think that many people feel this way when they discover they are unexpectedly pregnant: I felt numb, like a little part of myself had died. In a way, it did. I say that in the most matter-of-fact way possible. Dreams that I had were suddenly knocked off-kilter, but what does it matter? Plans and control are only an illusion, anyways. I thought I would be dancing intensively after graduation and finding every opportunity to expand my dance resume. I thought I would be performing in the Senior Solo concert in May and receiving my BFA upon graduation. I thought I would be working at my student job until May. Now, I knew that none of this was possible or likely.
It was a strange reality to know that a little being was growing inside of me. This little being had no one to help or protect it except me, and that was a responsibility that I didn't have in my plans. I tried to be excited, and to everyone else, I put on a grand show, but in reality I was in a great deal of shock. Also, I didn't want to allow myself to be too excited until I had passed the first trimester. My mother so graciously cautioned me not to get too excited,. because she had miscarried her first. A murky sense of surreality surrounded me for weeks. I felt a deep sense that I had lost control.
When I saw Bruce on an ultrasound at 19.5 weeks, he was mine. My hesitancy changed to determination. Even though, deep down, I was not yet excited about the baby, I was determined to do everything in my power to care for him, to love him. He was in there, bouncing off the sides of my uterus, kicking his tiny little legs, and when he fell asleep, he clasped his hands together in front of his face. He refused to wake up even to the most insistent prodding. I saw his personality, and I was in awe at it's strength and the strength of his life, which was so tiny, not even a pound.
At school I felt an incredible separation between myself and other students. Suddenly, I was different, not exactly one of them. I felt ashamed. I couldn't tell what others thought about my pregnancy. I wondered if it was viewed as a lack of control, if I was viewed as weak for letting something come between my plans for my future. I put on a good face. I spoke well of my pregnancy, and my choice, which to me was never an option. I knew I would keep the little one, despite my hesitancy and frustration and change in plans. Like I said before, control is only an illusion.
He is strong now. He pushes against my ribs, and my bladder, and turns and moves incessantly. I will not complain. I love him, and I want to hold him. He is mine, and soon he will be his own person. I am not afraid, and I have made my choice to love him. Now, he comes before my desires and plans.
