My name is Nicki … and I am waiting for Luca.
Luca Jack Dadic, formerly known as “Tadpole Stanley Breakdancer Dadic” (explanation to follow soon, I assure you) is my unborn son, who at this exact moment is kicking me in the ribs and making me forget what what I want to write (commonly known as porridge brain) … and I am loving every moment of it!
I have started this blog to chronicle the last couple of weeks (about 11 or 12) before Luca’s arrival into the world. Granted, I should have started writing earlier in my pregnancy, but to be completely honest I have only really started to feel a connection to the “bump” and to Luca in the past two weeks or so. Probably because of the kicking that happens more and more often now, and the fact that he weighs more than a handful of grapes. My plan is, however, to think back to the early days of my pregnancy and recount any events that I think might be worth remembering a couple of years from now … maybe my son would even appreciate reading this when he’s old enough. Either way, I’m doing it … the prospect of becoming a mother has gotten me all revved up 🙂
Another reason why I am doing this is because I am “alone” in this pregnancy, insofar as I don’t have my own mother to see me through what some women need their mothers most for in life … becoming a mother. So many books and pregnancy magazine articles list a woman’s mother as the most essential guide during pregnancy. So what about the girls like me, who lost their mothers at a time when there was no talk of impending motherhood and therefore we are completely without guidance from that ever important figure? This in itself is reason enough to compile this blog … to share my experiences as a mom-to-be, without my mother.
Now, I have to admit that I am not completely alone. Not only have I recently become married to my husband who is an amazing man and my best friend, but I also have some of the world’s best girlfriends, some of whom are young mothers themselves. One in particular has been an inspiration to me since the day I met her, almost 7 years ago. She is just three months older than I am, and is the amazing mother of a 7 year old son and a beautiful 14 month old baby girl and is a wealth of information to me at the moment. The best part is that she’s not the kind of woman who feels the need to shovel information and advice down my throat about having a baby, as so many others do.
Having this bump attached to the front of my body is apparently a green light to complete strangers to commence the disbursement of advice, old wives’ tales, personal preferences and whatnot, without the slightest concern that I might be offended. From “You really shouldn’t be eating that!” to “Well, that’s what your body’s designed to do”, the barrage of unwanted advice is unbelievable. (Note to self: read this when Luca is 2 or 3 and you find yourself in the queue at Woolies, telling a frightened, newly pregnant girl off about eating tomatoes/pineapple/whatever … and then STOP IT!) I don’t think that people do it out of spite, but more because they think that they are helping by telling me what they think, but it still drives me crazy and on more than one occasion I have had to stop myself from telling the woman/man/old lady at the parking pay station to just f@#$ off! The joys of pregnancy!
Anyway, I digress. The point of this initial entry was to detail why I have started the blog. Those are:
(a) To chronicle the rest of (and parts of the beginning of) my pregnancy;
(b) To share my experience as a new mom-to-be, without the guidance of my own mother.
So, that’s it for tonight … sleep tight!