We didn’t tell anyone I was pregnant until after the New Year, aka after the first ultrasound gave the all clear. I was really hoping it could be a Christmas reveal for our families because that would seriously get me off the hook for gift giving and also because all of the family is together in one place which makes details and hugs that much easier to give. All very altruistic reasons. Unfortunately, I wasn’t far enough along for the ultrasound then (also insurance issues) so I had to hold off until January.
In retrospect, I was grateful. Had the baby been conceived one month earlier, the ultrasound would have been in early December and me and my big mouth could not possibly have waited until Christmas to tell everyone. Everyone would have found out well before Christmas and I would have lost my last holiday as an autonomous adult. That may sound a bit hyperbolic and super selfish (it is), but think about it; I have lots of hobbies and interests and feel very grateful and loved when someone demonstrates to me that they understand even the littlest piece of who I am as a person. Likewise, I strive to do the same. My soon to be child, however, has none of those qualities, yet. It’s really easy to give to someone you’ve never met with no defined tastes or preferences. The only criteria is really “OMG they will look so cute in this!”. If the baby news had come before Christmas, guess who they would be thinking of. The answer is still me, but not really. A cute bib is easier to pick out than finding a book I haven’t read by Neil Gaiman.
That brings me to today. As I said earlier, my birthday is this week and I’m turning 31. I love birthdays like most people. I grew up with birthdays being a big deal, tons of presents, cake, the whole shebang. Getting older, I don’t expect much out of my birthdays anymore because, you know, ADULT, but I still like getting a random gift or two. Today, I got two lovely gifts for my birthday; Onesies and a teddy bear. The weird part is that I genuinely loved them. Sure, they are ultimately for the kid, but the onesies are a pattern I love and the bear is something soft that I can see myself cuddling along with my child. They thought about me and my tastes when they picked out these gifts for my child. So, it was for me, but also not.
Watching my identity slowly get merged into this new identity of “person carrier” and subsequently “mother” is not something I think I’ll get used to anytime soon. Not many people are given presents meant for them but also for someone else on their birthday. Expected at this point in the pregnancy, but still a bit odd.
I thought I would have a conclusion to all this, but I don’t. The whole situation still feels just weird. For sanity insurance, I ordered myself something on Amazon that’ll come on my birthday. I’m pretty sure I’ll like it.