The pregnancy was simultaneously one of the best and most stressful times of my life.
Physically it was mostly a joy. I had some issues with my back between 28 and 32 weeks but other than that I felt great most of the time and I LOVED it. I loved my baby belly.
Mentally it was a bit more challenging.
When I was 6 weeks pregnant Eric came down to stay with me and we went out for a celebratory dinner and chose our baby names. Yes, in one night we chose our baby names.
The following weekend I went to meet his mum and her husband as they were still out visiting. She was most excited about the coming baby. Eric is an only child so it was to be her first granchild and she was over the moon. We hit it off really well but things became a little strained later on. She is a very full on person and when she returned to Europe (they live there 6 months of the year) she contacted me more often than I hear from my own mum and we are close.
When I was about 4.5 months pregnant we shared our name with everyone (we knew it was a boy by then) and she went CRAZY as she HATED it. And told me so in a long vitriolic email. She insisted I get Eric to choose the name (as apparently he wasn’t in on “our” choice) and moaned about it no end. I told her off. Our relationship these days is OK but it is more distant from my end. After a number of incidences like this I just choose not to get deeply involved with her anymore. I tend not to write back to her emails or only send one liners and pics of her grandchild so she has gotten the hint and backed off.
Despite all that she is a wonderful grandmother so I just try to see the good in her and leave off the bad. Although I told off her husband the other day but that’s a story for another day.
Sounds like I just tell people off right?
Anyway things with Eric and I were sometimes good and sometimes very strained. We visited each other and shared a bed and this pregnancy so I insisted pretty early on that he shouldn’t date other people during the course of the pregnancy. He resisted heavily but begrudgingly agreed because I was like a dog with a bone.
About late April (almost 5 months pregnant) he went on a holiday to South East Asia and hooked up with some English chick there. I found out bits of it when he came home but he was pretty much lying to me about it. Maybe I’ll go into this more one day or not but the short story is that after snooping once we were living together from 36 weeks pregnant I found out the truth.
I ranted and raved about it but there wasn’t much I could do at the point.He insisted it was never supposed to be like “this”: fully committed. And he was right to a degree. I didn’t feel as betrayed as I would have had I been in love with this person but I was right royally pissed just the same.
Financially he was very generous. He paid me a stipend throughout my whole pregnancy so I could go off and get pregnancy massages or whatever other extra care I felt I needed. It turns out that he is actually rather wealthy but I had no idea of that at the time we embarked on this journey.
He also participated in pregnancy activities like attending a birthing course and we spoke every day. We were, for the most part, like a couple, which I guess is why it was so confusing.
I had chosen to go back to my hometown for the birth so I could be near my mum during the early months with the baby. He moved down with me and I was ever so hopeful this little baby would bring his guard down and we would fall in love. It wasn’t like that though and the main reason is probably because we aren’t actually well suited. I was kidding myself about that though. I just wanted the family.
He was actually a pretty difficult person to live with. As he’s had money most of his adult life he just pays everyone to do everything for him. He doesn’t cook or clean and is VERY messy so looking after him and the house with a newborn and my first one at that was super taxing on me. He never complained if I didn’t want to cook. He would happily order in. But he would never walk into the kitchen to make something healthy and homemade for us. I would have settled for toasted sandwiches most of the time. SOMETHING. Not takeout. And not me cooking.
Anyway despite lots of fighting and getting used to each other we made it. He was present for the whole labour and birth and was as supportive as he knew how. And he was delighted to meet his son when he was born on Father’s Day. He was a natural with Kiddo and bonded with him instantly. He visited us at the hospital every day and was very much a hands on father.
And that’s how we became parents out of a crazy situation. Bonded for life to someone we barely even knew.