Pregnancy. Not my favourite thing in the world. But not terrible either. As pregnancies go, I think I had a pretty fantastic one. Aside from mild evening queasiness (made easy by living up the luxury of laying on the couch eating crackers and bell peppers and watching reality TV thanks to the fact that I had no other children), a trip to the doctor for what my neighbour/nurse thought could be appendicitis (why didn't anyone tell me about ligament pain!?), and some severe swelling for a couple of days (note to self: when 9 months pregnant, it is not advisable to cook in 100 degree weather + 90% humidity all day long with no air conditioning), I had it easy.
I felt great so I just kept working right up to my due date and every one of those 10 days I went overdue and even traveled at 39 weeks without one flight attendant batting an eye.
I loved the weekly updates and rejoiced when my baby grew past seeds and beans to fruits and finally to sporting equipment! And, oh, the feeling of those first flutters which eventually turned into feet in my ribs and thrilled not only me but also my husband, and even humoured colleagues as my belly would ripple during meetings.
I'm not sad to not be pregnant anymore. Of course, I'll be excited to be pregnant again one day - but mostly because I love babies.
In the mean time though, there are times when I feel little flutters and bumps inside my belly. Its almost as if my little man is still in there kicking and I have to stop and remember - no he's out now. I have never heard of phantom pregnancy pains, but I have heard of people who have lost limbs who can still feel pain. (So strange, by the way).
So, it begs the question - do I have an overactive imagination? Wishful thinking? Or am I in fact experiencing phantom pregnancy pains?
Happy to be holding my baby on the outside,