Are you there, little Pocky?

Whilst I type this, I'm wrapped up in the warmth of the duvet with only the gentle rustling of bare branches beyond the window, trying to feel our little Pocky. I'm still not totally sure if the subtle rolls inside my tummy are my baby, and I still can't really get my head around it being in there. I feel a bit like I'm waiting for something to click into place in my mind.

There is so much going on at the moment that I feel like I haven't given myself enough chances to stop still and take it in. What with the house and work deadlines, sometimes I actually forget, and that's the last thing I want to do. I want to be able to bottle up every moment, as being pregnant and experiencing it with my best friend and love is like nothing else.

I've been going to bed too late, spending what little daylight there is in an airless office and battling my way home on two tubes, a train and a bus. Today it all got a little bit much. I feel silly saying that I felt exhausted, as I know I have yet to experience the true meaning of the word with what we have to come and my work's not really hard. But with sweet Jonny's persuasion and a little reminder that me and the baby need some rest, I've stayed at home with my Buddy-cat. I feel guilty. The guilt of taking the day off as a freelancer and the guilt of being a little bit pathetic. I have huge respect for any mummas to be who get on with physcially demanding or super stressful careers with other kids in tow, as in comparison to many, I have nothing on my plate.

We have our 20 week scan tomorrow (which, being the 'anomaly' scan, I am pretty nervous about). Perhaps seeing again will help me believe it though. Of course, it's also the time the gender could be revealed... I always swore I'd never want to know and Jon is sure of that too. However, just lately I've been waivering. I don't know if i'm 100 percent sure, as obviously there's no going back. I just wonder if it would make it feel more real. To help give those self-conscious whispers to my non-responsive belly button a bit more weight. To be able to imagine a bit better, the little mystery human being that's the focus of our thoughts and dreams.

I did this quiz last night. One question that perhaps summed up my changing school of thought was 'when you book a holiday, do you like to plan everything'. Perhaps my Google Drive full of spreadsheets is a good reflection of my psyche. I'm a little bit of a control freak. Yes, I like suprises. Yes, I used to save my Christmas presents till the end of the day so the fun wouldn't be over. But maybe that's because I was kidding myself - I'd always managed to do a little bit of sneaky detective work beforehand for reassurance.

If we found out, we'd get both an amazing suprise tomorrow, plus five months of dreaming and everything after that. Again, that's hoping and hoping that everything goes well. Little person, whoever you may be, we love you so much already. So I guess it shouldn't really matter, right?

Jon just took the quiz, and it said we should wait. I'm so confused! What would you do?

Some things are hard to believe

I am having a baby.

I am having a baby.

I am having a baby! ME. Sarah. It's happening. Apparently, in six snappy nappiless months (here's of course hoping and hoping that all is well), I will be a mummy. It is totally impossible for me to comprehend. Only now, as my tummy is beginning to swell (not just with pizza), am I starting to believe it could perhaps be true.

14 Weeks

It's not as if we were a long time trying. We were incredibly lucky that it was quite the opposite. Which, I think is partly why I'm still in a state of shock after seeing that first blue line out of the corner of my eye (followed in disbelief by five more pee sticks) nine weeks ago. 

As a child, I was obsessed with babies. I mean obsessed. I used to await the release of a new Mothercare catalogue as others would anticipate the new Nintendo. I poured over those pages, absorbing every detail, copying the pictures and dreaming up a family of my own. I loved the 'preparing for baby' lists especially. That is, until they started charging two pounds for the privilege, which my Mum said was ridiculous. I was happy to see on a very excitable recent trip to Mothercare that they are once again free of charge and my obscure pleasure can recommence. Thank goodness for that.

The only reason I stopped playing with dolls was because I was massively ashamed. I actually used to set an alarm in the middle of the night to wake up and feed my plastic baby. Whilst spending my pocket money on Just Seventeen, I would sneak Mother and Baby into the trolley at Tesco. A whole seventeen years later, I'm just about ready to admit that to the world. It was a bizarre internal conflict that struggled to replace the love of my toy pushchair with a somewhat forced passion for Boyzone. Here's a diary entry from 1996 (aged 13) after a sleepover session of truth...

Inevitably I began babysitting as soon as I could. This even meant roping in my best friend Emily, who would reach the legal childminding age a whole nine months before me. Our little business, aptly titled 'Kid Crazy' (a nod to my other obsession of the Babysitters Club books) went from strength to strength and we soon had clients all over St Margaret's. At university I did some more, whilst in the holidays I worked at the best independent children's bookshop in the world, with a brief stint in Gap Kids and a summer as an au pair. It sometimes makes me wonder why I became a graphic designer at all.

Since meeting Jon over a decade ago at the tender age of 19, I have plagued the poor guy with the question of when we can have a baby. I always convinced myself that it might not happen. I figured that I've been so lucky in other parts of my life that the thing I wanted the very most, would of course not come true. I saw it as my deal that this is the thing I didn't deserve. I know that must sound ridiculous. 

So to actually see a little thing with a tiny nose and waving arms, jumping backwards on a screen and supposedly in my tummy just seems too impossible to be real. I've found it hard, particularly in the first 12 weeks to allow myself the absolute glee that I could be enjoying. I'm so paranoid that I'll wake up from the dream or something will go wrong. It must be a mixture of emotions felt by so many mothers to be.

It's true though! I saw it with my own eyes. Things are going to change and it's the best thing that's ever happened to us.

Ever.