Are You Still In There?

During the first trimester, it's common for women to wonder if their pregnancy is still viable. This is the period of highest risk, when most pregnancies fail. Despite being told by my OB during my second appointment that my chance of miscarriage was less than 5%, I was still nervous and convinced I wasn't pregnant. (Holding onto that latent fear of a terminal disease.)

It was a lonely period, buoyed only by my fiance (henceforth "Panda") and the only friend I had confided in, Zombie. Our friendship goes back many years, to our crazy days in Washington, D.C., working for a boutique children's toy and book store. Now, she is mother to an adorable 2 1/2 year old daughter, Baby Z.

Zombie and I spoke daily via email and text. She immediately sent me a pregnancy guide book, baby's first toy, a link to a pregnancy calendar, and a list of infant must-haves.

She also told me that what I was feeling was completely normal. Her friendship kept me partially sane during those first three months.

At my third OB appointment, we heard the baby's heartbeat again and I was out of the first trimester. I had to promise Panda I would stop freaking out about losing the pregnancy. Then, we shared the good news with our parents and families.

Of course, revealing our pregnancy launched its own series of questions and concerns...

And now, proof that Aliens is all about motherhood --

First Trimester Blues

How does the confirmation of pregnancy change how it feels in my body? During the first eight weeks, I had little indication of my pregnancy. Some tiredness, some aching in my breast and stomach, as though I had cramps, yet nothing extreme as other women had mentioned (the dreaded morning sickness).

A day after my OB confirmed my pregnancy and administered the first ultrasound, I started developing nausea.

This is how I imagined it --

Body to brain, "So, now you know?"
Brain, "Yes. We're very excited. Can't you tell?"
Body, "Oh yeah. There's a lot we're feeling. Now you will to. Hahahahaha (evil laugh)."

The nausea was crippling. Barely able to function, I missed work and had to tell my supervisors before I was ready to tell my family. By the time of my second OB appointment, I had tried every home remedy, including ginger, crackers, seabands, peppermint, and meditation.

This is how I felt.  Photo credit: www.slschofield.com.

My OB prescribed me anti-nausea medication, so I could function again. Prior to my pregnancy, my OB was just OK. Post-pregnancy, she was glowing.

I was glad one of us was.

"I love babies," she said. "After 10 years of doing this, I still love bringing babies into the world." Well, that's great. I would hate if my OB despised her job. I've found OBs to be the nosiest doctors. That's not a complaint. Over the years, they've been the only ones who have asked me about my stress levels in addition to my sex life. Pregnancy was no different.

She wanted a lot of details about my partner, which made me worry about how comfortable it would be to be a teen mom or an unwed mother. After being ill, being depressed and moody, and being scared as a result of the pregnancy, I have a lot of respect for women who are pregnant and parent on their own.

Pregphobic and Pregnant: Part 2

By 2010, my pregphobia receded to a distant memory, something to laugh at. By that point, my sister had two young sons, and I had several friends who had adorable children. They all survived their alien invasion and turned out to be mostly normal again.

I also met and fell in love with wonderful, caring, and generous man in Chicago, IL. He proposed on Valentine's Day.

Despite my fear of pregnancy, I loved children. I always smiled at infants and kids whenever I passed them in stores or on the street. Being an auntie was a favorite activity of mine. So I knew I wanted children, and I knew my fiance would be a wonderful father. Shortly after he proposed, we discussed babies.

I was worried that my age and my family's history of fertility issues may create some issues for us in starting our family. We decided to start trying and leave the creation of life up to fate.

That was February.

By March, my fiance realized I was pregnant. I thought my excessive sleepiness was cancer. (I have a touch of hypochondria, too.)

He was right.

My reaction? Great! And uh oh. I was facing my own John Hurt Moment!

Pregphobic and Pregnant: Part 1

My pregphobia hit its height in the spring of 2006. I was living in New York City, hustling through life as a grad student (creative writing, need I say more?), a fundraising associate, and heavy drinker. My life consisted of: booze, books, friends, and boys, in that order. Obviously, not the time in life to be considering parenthood. Thankfully, that wasn't an issue for me, but it didn't mean I couldn't be frightened of it.

Pregphobia, as defined by my friend Janice -- a type of anxiety disorder, defined as a persistent fear of pregnancy or pregnant people.

That spring every woman in NYC was pregnant. Or seemingly so. I saw them everywhere with their bubbled stomachs. I remember a particular day when I was at the corner of Broadway and 6th Avenue with three pregnant ladies all in tight black dresses that emphasized their protrusions and another was crossing the street towards us. It was claustrophobic. They were swarming me like insects! Suddenly sweaty and woozy, I bolted from the corner and dashed for home.

To say I have mother issues is an understatement. Though in my defense, I think a lot of sane women fear the "John Hurt Moment". Let's face it, there is something alien about pregnancy...