[Preggieville’s new kids on the block??]

“Geeeeez, there must seriously be something in the water!” I heard myself saying many times in 2011, having been informed of yet another female acquaintance who’d become a citizen of Preggieville. Blame it on the age we’re at or whatever, but it seemed like everybody was sprouting sprogs last year. Or simply cooking them up for delivery this year.


My Facebook newsfeed? Cluttered with pics of baby bumps, blurry scans, and little ones unknowingly thrust into the limelight with their gummy grins and cutesy clothes. Status updates with details of weird cravings and gynae visits and random mommy thoughts. You name it. Baby bumping was big news in 2011.
I was happy for all of these lucky ladies, of course. But I’d be lying if I said there wasn’t a tiny part of me that felt a twinge of the green eyed monster at times. While I had lots to keep me occupied in 2011, with my impending nuptials to the love of my life of 7 years, more than anything I wanted to start a family as soon as possible. But with a little medical condition that affected my hormone production, I’d been warned on countless occasions by well-meaning doctors that the process of falling preggies would be an arduous one that would require lots of consultation and close observation, and may or may not end in the pitter patter of baby feet.
There’s a telling cellphone video from my own bridal shower that kinda sums up the way I felt about marriage and procreation. In it, you see the bride to be at the height of her inebriation, surrounded by a gang of shrieking, laughing and equally tipsy girlfriends. Said bride-to-be is bouncing on a Pilates ball – rather unsuccessfully given her state of pre-nuptial intoxication – while singing a self-composed ditty featuring the catchy lyrics: “I want a honeymoon baby. Oooh, I want a honeymoon baby, Baby.” Before falling off the Pilates ball into a crumpled heap on the floor.
It’s hilarious to watch. But I think it also illustrates the urgency I felt about becoming a mum. Especially at the age of nearly 32 and with uncertainty surrounding whether I’d ever actually get the chance to experience one of life’s most precious gifts.
But the Big Guy in the Sky had other plans, it seems. And just 4 months into our marriage we found ourselves staring at two blue lines that would probably change our lives forever.
I’m happy to finally document that journey here.
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