I am still safely in the pre-period zone and I have to confess that I am prone to the odd blank gaze brought about by my day-dreaming ways. I must also confess that my day-dreaming has at times had the potential to veer off course and in the past (anytime up until 5 minutes ago if I'm being really honest) I have found myself getting rather carried away. I have just been reminded of this as I checked my emails and I have a newsletter from a Baby Blogging/Mummy-to-be website.
I'd like to say that I subscribed to this for the 'Getting Pregnant' info it offers (there isn't a lot of it that anyone TTC - that's a new acronym I learned today - hasn't already read a thousand times, it is much like the generic advice that is in every monthly women's magazine about how to get over a break-up), but that's not the truth. I subscribed during a moment of euphoric hope much like the one I am experiencing now. One where my last period and its accompanying disappointment was a distant memory and there was still enough time before my next was due for me to engage my utmost PMA and 'think myself pregnant' as I have been told to do in the past.
It is that piece of advice that makes me feel a bit less like an absolute fucking cradle snatching basket case when I have these little moments of madness. I cling onto it for dear life 'I am making my body hold onto this' I tell myself. I'm not. Or at least I haven't managed to hold onto anything so far.
What I did in the particular moment of madness that I am referring to, was subscribe to the website which offers advice, vouchers and other things for Mothers or Mothers-to-be. Doesn't sound so crazy given that I am planning to be a Mother-to-be at any given point in the near future. The bat-shit crazy part comes in what I did next. Part of the subscription process was to tell them all about your little bundle(s) of joy. I understand completely why that question is in there, it helps the site tailor subject matter to you. It just didn't tailor it to me, there was no 'Not knocked up yet, just hoping' option, so I lied to myself and to a faceless digital form. That month there was as much of a chance of me being pregnant as there has been at any point so far on my journey, so I reasoned with myself that I wasn't lying, just maybe jumping the gun a little (or tempting fate some might say). I calculated my due date based on conception just a week or two prior and my heart filled with a warm glow as I pressed 'Submit' and the site welcomed me. I felt as though I had finally been invited to a party all the cool kids were going to, one that I've been outside of for a long time with my face pressed up against the window peering in, leaving a smudge mark of my greasy face and steam from my breath on the window.
In that moment I was so elated it didn't matter to me that I had snuck into the party through the back door, that I didn't really belong here. Sometimes you have to make your own destiny. That's what I told myself.
As I browsed through the site at the plethora of baby images, products and words of advice, I felt my little heart jump for joy. At first I dipped a toe in the baby pool, and read the advice aimed at the 'newly expectant' and before I knew it I was swimming up to my neck in swaddling methods, breast-feeding and even potty training. At some point - I can't say categorically when - I realised I had gone too far and this was no longer 'thinking myself pregnant' but actually just being obsessive and borderline psychotic. I also realised how much harder it was going to be if I had led myself up the garden path, if it turned out - like so many times before - that I wasn't actually pregnant. I realised what the 'Think yourself pregnant' people don't realise and that is how heartbreaking a PMA can turn out to be. You can't have a positive attitude towards something so significant that you have to literally make with your own body, you cannot do it without getting excited and mentally moving past step 1 of conception onto the other stuff. The pain and misery comes when that is all ripped away with a single cramp or a drop of blood.
For the past few days, I have happily wandered around the cool kids party - again - but much like a ghost, not wanting to alert anyone to my presence for fear of being identified as a fraud. I happily read my email which told me what is currently happening to my body (or what would be if I were pregnant, based on the dreamt up information I previously submitted) and looked at the 'Mum-to-Be' pack which they sent me a voucher for; I'm ashamed to admit I considered downloading said voucher and using it, almost to have as a lottery ticket, in readiness to cash in for when the day finally comes. I resisted, but probably only because my printer isn't working.
So there it is, still fat, still not pregnant, but feeling hopeful. x
I'd like to say that I subscribed to this for the 'Getting Pregnant' info it offers (there isn't a lot of it that anyone TTC - that's a new acronym I learned today - hasn't already read a thousand times, it is much like the generic advice that is in every monthly women's magazine about how to get over a break-up), but that's not the truth. I subscribed during a moment of euphoric hope much like the one I am experiencing now. One where my last period and its accompanying disappointment was a distant memory and there was still enough time before my next was due for me to engage my utmost PMA and 'think myself pregnant' as I have been told to do in the past.
It is that piece of advice that makes me feel a bit less like an absolute fucking cradle snatching basket case when I have these little moments of madness. I cling onto it for dear life 'I am making my body hold onto this' I tell myself. I'm not. Or at least I haven't managed to hold onto anything so far.
What I did in the particular moment of madness that I am referring to, was subscribe to the website which offers advice, vouchers and other things for Mothers or Mothers-to-be. Doesn't sound so crazy given that I am planning to be a Mother-to-be at any given point in the near future. The bat-shit crazy part comes in what I did next. Part of the subscription process was to tell them all about your little bundle(s) of joy. I understand completely why that question is in there, it helps the site tailor subject matter to you. It just didn't tailor it to me, there was no 'Not knocked up yet, just hoping' option, so I lied to myself and to a faceless digital form. That month there was as much of a chance of me being pregnant as there has been at any point so far on my journey, so I reasoned with myself that I wasn't lying, just maybe jumping the gun a little (or tempting fate some might say). I calculated my due date based on conception just a week or two prior and my heart filled with a warm glow as I pressed 'Submit' and the site welcomed me. I felt as though I had finally been invited to a party all the cool kids were going to, one that I've been outside of for a long time with my face pressed up against the window peering in, leaving a smudge mark of my greasy face and steam from my breath on the window.
In that moment I was so elated it didn't matter to me that I had snuck into the party through the back door, that I didn't really belong here. Sometimes you have to make your own destiny. That's what I told myself.
As I browsed through the site at the plethora of baby images, products and words of advice, I felt my little heart jump for joy. At first I dipped a toe in the baby pool, and read the advice aimed at the 'newly expectant' and before I knew it I was swimming up to my neck in swaddling methods, breast-feeding and even potty training. At some point - I can't say categorically when - I realised I had gone too far and this was no longer 'thinking myself pregnant' but actually just being obsessive and borderline psychotic. I also realised how much harder it was going to be if I had led myself up the garden path, if it turned out - like so many times before - that I wasn't actually pregnant. I realised what the 'Think yourself pregnant' people don't realise and that is how heartbreaking a PMA can turn out to be. You can't have a positive attitude towards something so significant that you have to literally make with your own body, you cannot do it without getting excited and mentally moving past step 1 of conception onto the other stuff. The pain and misery comes when that is all ripped away with a single cramp or a drop of blood.
For the past few days, I have happily wandered around the cool kids party - again - but much like a ghost, not wanting to alert anyone to my presence for fear of being identified as a fraud. I happily read my email which told me what is currently happening to my body (or what would be if I were pregnant, based on the dreamt up information I previously submitted) and looked at the 'Mum-to-Be' pack which they sent me a voucher for; I'm ashamed to admit I considered downloading said voucher and using it, almost to have as a lottery ticket, in readiness to cash in for when the day finally comes. I resisted, but probably only because my printer isn't working.
So there it is, still fat, still not pregnant, but feeling hopeful. x
Comments
Post a Comment