This Sunday just gone was our one year anniversary. I have now been a married woman, a wife, for one whole year and three days.
That’s 368 days. I’d like to say 368 utterly wonderful days, but I’ve spent 258 of those days being pregnant, and therefore a large proportion of those days has been spent either throwing up or peeing. But you know, apart from that, they’ve been wonderful.
It all seems a bit surreal right now.
A year ago we were lying on a tropical island with our toes just touching the sparkling water, sipping cocktails, and basking in that (irritating to all but the couple in question) glow that only newly married couples can have, with no idea of what the future would bring. Except that whatever it did bring, we would be together. Husband and wife. A married couple. It was exciting and thrilling, and at the same time comforting and comfortable.
We were living in Russia, where the temperature was about to dip below zero and remain at around -20 for the next six months. We had plans to travel, and see the world. Living life as a young couple with no ties and the world at their feet. Holding hands and taking leaps into the unknown.
We did not have plans for babies quite yet. Or to move to a country where when the thermometer shows below 30C people start commenting on how chilly it is.
But here we are, one year later. 37 weeks pregnant. Living in Malaysia. And you know what – it wasn’t where we thought we’d be, but I wouldn’t change it for the world.
It does make you wonder where we’ll be and what we’ll be doing on our second anniversary though. If this much can change in the first year, how much can change in the second year (especially when you throw another human being into the mix)? And where will we be in five years, ten years, twenty years from now? What other unexpected situations will life have thrown at us? I know one thing for sure though – if our relationship grows and improves like it has done in this first year, we have a long and rather bloody wonderful marriage ahead of us.
Happy Anniversary Mr Wells – here’s to what the rest of our life will bring!
Ahem. Ok. I think that might be the most sentimental I’ve ever got on this blog. I promise it won’t happen again. Blame it on the hormones. Normal service will now be resumed.
Talking of hormones, I’m still pregnant. Very much pregnant.
As of tomorrow, it is three weeks until my due date. According to the internets, (which we all know are never wrong), that not only means that my baby is now the size of a swiss chard or watermelon, but that I am now classified as ‘full-term’.
I.e., any day now, I could be expected to push this baby out of my uterus. Any day now, I could become a MOTHER. Any day now we could be walking back into our home with a tiny new-born baby in a huge car-seat, wondering what on earth we’ve done and how we’re ever going to cope.
I’m going to stop talking about it now because I’m starting to hyperventilate and don’t want to bring on labour (Andy is back in the UK until the end of the week, so the baby and I have come to the agreement that we will wait until at least next week to meet one-another). But you get the idea. Any day now. So I apologise now if I suddenly go a bit quiet over the next few weeks. I have some posts lined up and ready to go, but from what I’ve heard, looking after a baby is going to take up considerably more time than growing bones has done, so I will be taking a little break when the baby decides he/she is ready to remove its foot from underneath my ribcage and make an appearance. Anna and Aisling will no doubt keep you up-to-date with what’s going on with me, and of course I’ll post a picture as soon as my brain is functioning on a level marginally higher than ‘survival’.
I know I’ve not talked about my life here in KL much, but I will do at some other point I promise (this post is already lacking in cohesion as it is). What I will say now though is how utterly welcoming and friendly every single person that I’ve met has been. I have made friends here so quickly. I already have a group of girls, any one of which I could phone and could meet for coffee and a chat, and who have all, without hesitation, offered to be there for me if I go into labour whilst Andy’s away. It’s like having real life AOW girls as friends. Not that you’re not all real life, but you know, I’m not sure you’d be up for popping around for coffee. Not that you’re not all welcome.
One of these lovely people, is my new friend Chloe who has also just arrived in KL, and who is also pregnant, so we have quickly formed a bond based on shared circumstances and swollen feet. What she has though, that I will never have, is huge creative talent (we all know how creatively challenged I am), and she has just set up her own photography business over here. When she suggested we have play around and do a bump shoot together I jumped at the chance because I’m thinking that my iPad pictures are not exactly going to become family heirlooms. I say ‘I jumped at the chance’ because I did…but then shortly after agreeing I had that horrible realisation that that meant I was going to have to have my picture taken.
As Lucy Stendall will tell you, I am not a natural model. I get nervous. And uncomfortable. And when I get nervous and uncomfortable, I start talking. And pictures of me talking are not all that flattering. Lucy found the best way to prevent this was to shout at me every time I went to open my mouth, so I took this to heart, and every time I went to talk whilst Chloe was taking pictures, I would picture beautiful Lucy screeching at me. It worked a treat.
To make a thirty six weeks pregnant, highly uncomfortable me, look as serene as this, in temperatures in the mid-thirties is not something that happens by chance. To take pictures of me wearing not all that much at thirty six weeks pregnant that I am happy to post for the interwebs to see takes some serious talent. Chloe has worked wonders.
See…slightly better than the iPad pictures, yes?