Movie Star Tears.

Today I am in a heighted state of pregnancy emotions. These emotions have led me to develop movie star tears which have appeared on and off since this morning. I am highly amused by these pregnancy tears; they gently roll down my face without any warning or sound. They glisten in my eyes, leaving no red rim, and thankfully do not harm my makeup. In typical Niamh fashion I have finally cracked the movie star crying code and yet I’m far too pregnant to break Hollywood (yes it is only my pregnancy that is preventing me from being discovered).

Anyways I think pregnancy tears are hilarious so have decided to bring you through my day so far. You may read these thinking there must be some exaggeration for dramatic effect but sadly that is not the case. Before you read them I would like to mention that I am in fact very delighted with life currently.

I cried movie star tears when:

• I thought my sleeping husband was annoyed at me. I had to wait for him to wake up in order to ask, turns out he wasn’t. Yes, I know, you’re right; it’s very hard for someone who is asleep to exhibit signs of annoyance however that did not stop me crying.
• I arrived at the bus stop and thought my bus had left early. It hadn’t, I got on it at the usual time.
• A lady was nice to me. My swipe card wasn’t working and she told me my day would get better when I had a coffee. That level of kindness was too much this morning.
• I got into the car after a packed Luas journey when no-one gave me their seat, even though I was holding my bump like the celebs do in magazines.

I wanted to cry when: (this means tears pricked my eyes but I didn’t let them fall)

• I wanted a muffin and bought one.
• I saw a picture of a premature baby born at the same stage as my baby is at now.
• I was worried that I wouldn’t love my baby.
• I thought about how much I love my baby.
• I had to ring my manager and was worried I would cry during the conversation.
• A lady power walked passed me during my lunchtime walk and I realised that she wasn’t really walking that fast.
• I saw children playing with swans in Stephens Green.
• I told my colleague about a day I forgot my keys to the office and it was raining outside.

While the movie star tears are most likely down to hormones, I am also slightly sleep deprived. Not only have I discovered the phenomenon of pregnancy tears but pregnancy dreams have also arrived full force. 

A few nights ago I dreamt that I was involved in a love triangle with Common and Xzibit (while still pregnant and married). We decided to work this problem out with the help of a mediator who turned out to be Robin Williams. Unfortunately the mediation came to an abrupt end when Robert De Niro shot us all. I rang my husband to say goodbye as I stood looking at the hospital he worked in. Sadly for me the hospital didn’t deal with those types of emergencies so I felt I shouldn’t go in and embarrass him. Not only was it a crappy dream but I woke feeling guilty about bringing Robin Williams back to life only to shoot him dead.

I’d like to think that tomorrow will be better, but I really shouldn’t think about it too much, just incase I cry.

Fear of commitment.

As I write this I am 25 weeks 3 days pregnant. I weighed myself during the week, I still don’t know if that was a good idea or bad. I never weight myself in normal life, I just try on my skinny day jeans to see if I need to consider eating less. Unfortunately that doesn’t work anymore, those mock me when I try entice them past my knees. Anyway I appear to be 3 lbs up on the result given when searching for ‘weight gain at 25 weeks’ (I know I’m all for accurate, medically sound information). I’m not sure how I feel about those 3lbs – they seem irrelevant compared to the other XXX lbs I’ve gained (no I’m not ready to share with you) however I also feel those 3 lbs will be my nemesis post pregnancy when I try to fit back into my wardrobe, especially because those 3lbs are very likely to turn into XXX lbs (no I’ll never tell).

I actually don’t mind the weight gain or soft feeling of my body from lack of hard core exercise. I still feel sexy and enjoy my rounded stomach but I do see how pregnancy can be tough for people who care more about their physical appearance. It really isn’t a vanity thing I’ve decided, it’s more about confidence and self-identity than about appearing attractive to others. So yes basically I’m saying it’s not about you, it’s about meeee. Anyway there’s my tuppence worth on body image in pregnancy…what do you mean you didn’t ask for it?

The other thing I have realised this week is that I have a fear of commitment. Yes 25 weeks and 3 days pregnant is quite late to realise this however worry not – my fear of commitment is towards baby item shopping. I am in the head melting world of baby buggies, dear Jesus there are too many models and so expensive.  We’re planning to go second hand and so I have signed up for alerts when new travel systems are uploaded. I check my email, find the perfect one at a good price, nod my head, admire the bargain and then close the email. I can’t commit to anything yet. What if the Quinny isn’t as good as the Uppa Baby, better than the Joolz but non match the Bugaboo??  Do you even know what those words mean? For some reason because I had a successful fusion of egg and sperm I’m now meant to. It’s a terrifying and unpredictable world and I am among it without so much as an instruction manual (or bank balance to buy the Stokke which is so very pretty).

Amongst this fear of committing to buggies, baby clothes, nursery colours, drawers and cots I have realised a talent for committing to … blankets. Yes blankets. Possibly the least important item that is needed by a baby, (I mean you could put a towel on baby if you had to), however I have bought a blanket every time I’ve been meaning to buy a useful item on my list. I have blankets in grey, white, grey and white. Some are fluffy some are knitted, some are cute, some trendy. However all of them will fit and I’m almost certain I won’t regret purchasing any.

Blankets are safe, they are my friend, they are the accessory shopping on a day you feel fat. They don’t say anything about my ability to be a mother, they will lie there looking awesome and shan’t care what buggy there are seen in. One day I will drop one of these blankets, someone will pick it up and admire what a nice blanket I have. They will then see the glory of the child it is covering and I am entirely convinced won’t even notice that my buggy is a convenience shopping trolley. I guess what I’m saying is that it isn’t what’s on the inside that matters, but what you dress it up in.

It’s likely I have 4 – 19 more blankets to buy before I commit to any larger investment piece.

Where we are born.

It’s 4.30am and I’ve been awake for an hour. That’s a common occurance these days, sleep and pregnancy aren’t great friends but most nights they tolerate each other. Tonight….not so much.

Even though outwardly I will myself to go back to sleep, I do secretly enjoy these midnight wakenings. Winston (the bump – did I mention his name before?) tends to wake with me so I hold my belly and let him kick away. The peace of the night is a lovely time for this, it’s a blessing of pregnancy, maybe of motherhood. I feel like I have a buddy with me all the time, no more lonely sleepless nights. I hear this changes with pregnancy two and three though, you just want sleep then they tell me, I’ll wait and see. I hope I’ll always enjoy my baby connecting with me this way.

This week I’ve been thinking a lot about where we are born. I had a bad dream Monday night which involved ISIS and beheadings, I woke up scared and upset. The next morning I walked through Stephens Green to try get a bit of beauty back into my mind, it was a gorgeous morning and the park looked heavenly. I thought about the women waking up from the dream of my reality, into what had been my nightmare. Why where they so unlucky?

This thought occurred to me again tonight. I felt Winston kick away in my warm bed, in my warm home and I thought about the other pregnant women in the world feeling the same thing but in very different surroundings. I don’t know if I should ask how they got so unlucky, or how I got so lucky? The main thing that saddens me is that it really is about luck. How our lives are mapped out depends so greatly on the situation you are born into yet at times I feel like we lack the responsibility that this unfairness should bring.

I remember on my first pregnancy a pregnant woman from Syria was rescued trying to cross the sea into Greece. She had been the water for too long and, at the time of reporting, they were unsure if the baby had survived. To think that woman tried to change her luck, to deliver her baby in a better place, and ended up floating in the Mediterranean Sea. We know it’s not fair but we, I, let it happen. We sit here, I sit here, and we sympathise and we donate. We feel awful and we wonder what we can do to help; but we are selfish and once it is not happening to us, we are quietly accepting of it happening to others. 

Tonight as I write this on my laptop in my warm room, in my warm house, I am sure there are women in homeless shelters holding their bellies. Women fleeing religious persecution, in cities under the rule of barbaric terror groups holding their bellies. Women who have the same hopes and dreams that I do, but without the freedom to make them the reality that I can. Women who take a shot at freedom and end up in the freezing waters of the sea. Who send their children in boats to Europe, and find out they arrived dead on the shores.

To my mind this is simply because of where they were born. And I’m just sitting here writing about it. My own lack of action embarrasses me, I hope my child will do better to effect a change in this world, but I guess they may have different plans for themselves. What a wonderful thing about living in Ireland – they are free to do what they want without paying the price of their life.