It was the best of times, it was the worst of times…
In between frequent trips to the bathroom and unwelcome heartburn episodes, I pause to reflect on this pregnancy. This bun is going to pop out of the oven in about six weeks, and I can’t help but compare it to my first pregnancy- nine years ago!
There’s a whole world of difference between my first pregnancy and this one. For starters, I was married back then. I was treated like a queen. My husband and in-laws gave me everything I needed and wanted- from freshly baked pretzels to creamy milkshakes.
I was a stay-at-home wife. I spent my days burying my head in books by Dan Brown. Umberto Eco’s writing filled every nook and cranny of my expectant brain. It was a blissful 9 months, having all the time in the world to do whatever my heart and mind desired.
Fast forward to today, I’m the personification of a knocked up, pregnant single mom. This pregnancy came as a shock in the beginning. After I told this baby’s biological dad that I was with child, he chose to just turn a deaf ear. He simply vanished into thin air, like a fleeting yet utterly stinky fart.
With just a few more weeks to go before I give birth, I see how this pregnancy has changed me in positive ways. For one, I no longer care about finding a life partner. I used to spend most of my time going on online dating sites to find my perfect match. I was on a quest to find that which I now realize is not important to my well being.
I have plans for my first-born and this upcoming baby, but I also understand that sometimes, even the best-laid plans go awry. I am taking a leap of faith, gracefully accepting whatever surprises life has in store for us around the bend.
My first and second pregnancy may be different in so many ways, but one thing’s for certain- they’re both miracles.
