The First Trimester

After finding out I was pregnant, the first trimester just started out as a waiting game. I tried very hard to stay in the moment, but it wasn't always easy with the symptoms of the first trimester and the fear of having a miscarriage. After I had a particularly strong cramp one day (which I learned later was associated with a growing uterus), I had a moment of complete fear that I was miscarrying. Mike reminded me that I could not control what happened, but could control how I dealt with these fears... and getting anxious would not be helpful no matter what. So, I let go once again.

Even though the first trimester symptoms were pretty strong, I just reminded myself that these were good signs! I had high pregnancy hormones. I was trying to find something positive out of wanting to sleep 14 hours a day and throwing up constantly. I learned quickly not to eat anything that would hurt coming back up (after a particularly unfortunate incident with hot wings), to lay still on the couch drinking ginger ale whenever possible and to keep reminding myself about how this actually meant something good about the pregnancy.

We had our first doctor's visit with my OB on January 5, 2012. She confirmed the pregnancy with a sonogram, showed us the baby's little blinking heartbeat on the screen and reassured us that everything looked great. It was such a relief that we both cried. Even so, I kept looking forward to 12 weeks when I knew the risk of miscarriage would go down. I remember being able to make out all of the little parts - the baby's head, arms and legs - they were so tiny, but the baby became so real.

I was so bloated, but I didn't look pregnant at all. The only noticeable difference was that I had to invest in a new bra - 2 sizes up from what I was wearing pre-pregnancy. This was a bit disturbing and I would have no idea how much until later on in my pregnancy. I longed to actually look pregnant, since most of the first trimester I looked like I ate too much at my last meal, which was just a little embarrassing. But I just continued to wait.

I already had some nesting instincts - I realized I could control elements of my environment and put all that nervous energy into doing something positive. I started preparing myself for maternity leave, finding a way to work less, started cleaning and organizing absolutely EVERYTHING in my house, started the nursery and taking an honest look at my life. Mike and I had lots of soul-searching talks and philosophical discussions. We both were looking forward to this change in our life, but whereas I felt different already, my poor husband only experienced the negative changes in me - my excessive fatigue and ability to throw up during any conversation or event.

On February 2, 2012, we had our first trimester scan which revealed a little jumping bean who had grown immensely in less than a month. I could see fingers and toes, facial features and I fell in love with this baby just a little more. The scan showed that the baby was healthy and there were minimal risks of a potential disorder.

On the same day, we got to hear the heartbeat for the first time. I can't describe the feeling; it was an intense connection to this little being and a reality check that this was my life. Sometimes I would wake up thinking that being pregnant was a dream and that I wasn't really pregnant. After all, we had tried for so long. But that little heartbeat reminded me our little baby was really there and I didn't just have a bad case of the stomach flu.

Two other significant events during this time was that I started doing my reading and research (something that is very much my thing) and picking the name out with Mike. We had already agreed on a name for a girl: Willow. But the name for a boy was much more difficult. I tended toward the hippie ethereal and Mike tended toward the butch obnoxious. Every name I liked was linked to a bad student memory for him; every name he liked was met with disgust by me. We toyed with the names Kai and Leo, but they didn't feel right. One day Mike said the name Wilson and when he did, I felt this amazing connection to the baby - an overwhelming spiritual feeling that we had just discovered his name. Even though he will likely hear some Volleyball or House, M.D. references in his future, it met all of our criteria: it was different-sounding, but recognizable, had an easy nickname and it felt right.

I had an intuition early on that this baby was a baby boy. I couldn't describe it and I felt silly trying, but I knew it from the onset. I bought boy clothes (although I kept the receipt, showing my skeptical and practical side) and had many more journey dreams where I met him and played with him. I started the nursery in neutral colors, but had a very strong feeling that the baby was really a boy, so I leaned more towards boy-like decorations. I only told my closest friends because even though I am a total counter-culture crazy, I don't always like to wear that label on my sleeve.

From this first trimester, I reveled in the fact that I no longer had insomnia, rolled with the proverbial digestive punches and kept trying to stay in the moment. In many ways the first trimester was the shortest experience of my pregnancy, but also the longest in that the 12-week mark meant so much to me. The biggest lesson I learned in this trimester was that I needed to trust in my intuition again. It was almost like an efficacy research study: I would have the intuition, feel it completely and then test its reality. This might come as a surprise to many that know me; I follow my intuition in almost every area of life. But when it came to the baby, I was too emotionally invested to distinguish between fear, blind hope and intuition. This trimester, I started teasing these apart. I was still waiting for the verdict on my gender intuition, but something told me I was right on this one as well.