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I don’t know if you’ve noticed but I haven’t posted anything here since April. (I’m going to pretend you did notice. It makes me feel kinda good.) I’m sorry about that. In the last few weeks I’ve been thinking about this little space of mine more and more, missing it more and more. My friends can confirm this, as they’ve been bombarded with a lot of links and mails with random thoughts that would otherwise have resulted in a blog post. And yet, I wasn’t ready to come back here.

See, there’s a reason I went quiet. Something pretty great happened, but it was a something that I wasn’t sure I wanted to share at all. And I tried to write around it, but it didn’t feel right. So I just stopped posting. These last few days, I’ve done quite a bit of soulsearching, trying to determine how I feel about sharing this hitherto secret part of my life. And I’ve finally reached a conclusion. I want to share. And I feel ready.

Now, this all sounds like I was secretly made Queen of Iceland or discovered my long-lost Siamese twin brother or eloped with a Beatle. I didn’t. I just got pregnant.

Yep. That’s it, that’s my big secret and the reason I’ve been staying away. Not much of a reason for radio silence, some might feel. All I can say is that during the course of this pregnancy I’ve found that I’m probably not the typical pregnant lady, if there is such a thing. I don’t gush about my “little diamond” to everyone and anyone. I definitely don’t feel super sexy, nor particularly glowy. And I haven’t posted a single picture of me or my bump on Facebook. See? Pretty abnormal.

This is not to say that I’m not happy. I’m truly happy about this pregnancy. Granted, I also freaked out when we found out I was pregnant and still have moments of pure, undiluted panic when I realise that I’m now responsible for this new life and ohmygodi’llprobablyscrewitupsobad. This, I’ve been assured, is quite common, so I’m not too worried. Plus, my boyfriend is totally cool as a cucumber about this whole thing, which calms me. (Most of the time. When I’m panicky this just freaks me out even more. Like this: what is wrong with him that he doesn’t understand how completely unprepared and immature and idiotic we are? Etc. I’m a lot of fun during these panic attacks, I can assure you.)

But the thing is I’ve been having a bit of a hard time, actually. After telling family and close friends, I found myself not really feeling a need to share the news with a larger public. A vast majority of my acquaintances in Reykjavík and abroad still have no idea that I’m pregnant, as I’ve been here in Flateyri since we got back from India.

Somehow, I’d always expected that when I got pregnant I would be completely overcome with emotion and over the moon and enjoying every minute of a new, more womanly version of me. I’m pretty emotional to begin with so I just assumed that me on pregnancy hormones would be one big heap of emotion. Also, I always thought I would love the physical aspect of being pregnant. Being less than curvy by nature, I imagined I would revel in my new lines; bigger boobs, rounded hips and that glorious belly… Er, no. That didn’t happen. I just felt like a stranger in my body. Big and awkward. And overcome by emotion in that transcendental Mother Earth glowy way? Not really, no. Apart from the exhaustion of the first trimester (I’m one of the lucky ones – no morning sickness here), I just felt like my usual self. Maybe a little more cranky than usual.

And I still don’t really feel comfortable about all the attention that ensues when people find out you’re pregnant. This new interest that strangers seem to have in my body has been a bit hard to come to terms with. I squirm when people I hardly know stare at my midriff  and I’m really not psyched about the “Oh my god, you’re getting soooo biiiig!” comments. What is that? I know, I know, I’m being a bad sport. And totally cranky. It’s just that I feel so awkward and big (and, lets face it, fat), that having other people pointing out to me just how much I’m expanding by the day is… well, overkill. And I do find it peculiar that as soon as a woman falls pregnant, everyone is somehow entitled to an opinion on her body. I am not used to people commenting on my bodyparts, my weight or asking whether I’m retaining water or throwing up. I do realize that it’s all very well meant. For me, it’s still a bizarre experience.

So this is why I’ve been absent. I didn’t really feel like talking about my pregnancy here, didn’t want any more attention than I was already getting. Didn’t want to squirm on the internet too. These days, I’m feeling better. As of today, I’m 26 weeks pregnant and I feel a bit better about all of it; the attention, the comments. At least for now. We’ll see how things progress when I enter the third trimester. Shudder.

Now, I didn’t exactly post a lot of pictures of myself before and I don’t know if that will change – but it feels nice to just write about my experience here. I guess it’s time to just own it, stop hiding from view and start… gushing? Yes? We’ll see.

The baby (a boy, we’re told!) is due in the beginning of October. We are currently looking for an apartment to rent in Reykjavík from September onwards, as we want to be closer to our family and friends when the baby comes. I have a feeling I might need some moral support in those first few weeks.

And with that, I am back. You can probably expect regular, rambling posts about all the weird and wonderful aspects of pregnancy, some baby-related stuff and the normal oh, my, that so pretty/crazy/wonderful/tasty posts.

Ah, it’s good to be back. I’m excited. Yay!

Original photo from here.