7. Second guessing the positive signs along the way

I’ve always been a sucker for the phrase, “If something seems too good to be true, it probably is.” Which is a pity, because it’s pretty grim to look at things through that lens. I’ve tried not to let myself fall into that vortex with my pregnancy, because there have been so many positive signs along the way, that would seem almost ‘too good to be true’.

Firstly, how easily we got pregnant.

I’m self-employed, I run a small business with my brilliant sister. We realised that this meant we needed to take our employee benefits into our own hands, and that meant shelling out for our own insurance policies. When I got married, I took out a policy that included maternity insurance. For anyone reading this who doesn’t know about maternity insurance and lives in Hong Kong—I really recommend it. I’m covered worldwide excluding the USA (obviously). It was the most adult decision I felt I had made (more adult than getting married) and while it didn’t come cheap, I told myself, “You never know what might happen, it’s important to plan for a rainy day.” It’s funny how we can say things like that, never actually expecting said rainy day to come. In our situation now, it’s been a serious weight off my mind that I am insured, considering how many unknowns await us.

So, with the policy in place, there was a 10-month waiting period before you could make any claims. That seemed like a more than reasonable amount of time to wait before we started trying for a baby. I had a number of friends who had a really difficult time conceiving, so I realised this wasn’t as easy as just badda-bing-badda-boom. We didn’t expect it would happen for us for a few years. As soon as we hit the 10-month mark, I stopped taking my contraceptive pill and we let ourselves be open to the possibility of pregnancy—not actively trying—but not preventing. I couldn’t believe it when it happened almost immediately, a month later.

“ERrRRIIIiiiiNNNNN!!!!” I croak-yell-cried from the bathroom holding the little plastic wand. He scooped me up in his arms and was beaming. Absolutely beaming.

I remember thinking then, how much this little soul must want to be here.

Then, was the timing. I love Hong Kong and have no problem whatsoever with the level of medical care in the city. I would love to have my baby here. Unfortunately, I’m a third-culture kid. Dad’s from New Zealand and Mum’s from Gibraltar (British). I have a passport from each. Erin was born in the USA, and while it’s easy enough to pass on his citizenship to his children—we sat down and talked about the countries that, “God forbid, if something were to happen, disability, bankruptcy—which of these places would look after our child?” The USA wasn’t one of them. In hindsight, that line of thinking—rainy day thinking—seemed such a distance concept then, too. We knew that to pass on New Zealand citizenship, I would have to have our baby in New Zealand.

Yikes, that takes a bite out of our lives. Knowing you can’t travel much later than 34 weeks, thinking about being away from Erin, it seemed daunting. But then two graces. My sister was already getting married in New Zealand at the end of March, our return date to Hong Kong was a week away from the recommended travel cut-off recommended by a doctor. I could stay on after the wedding and work from there, with my sister helming the ship in Hong Kong (until she would also fly down for the birth of her first niece/nephew, again, lucky us!) Easy. Then Erin spoke to his work, who were understanding and flexible about him working remotely for a few weeks around my due date. He wouldn’t be with me the whole time, but what a relief to know that there would be a window where we wouldn’t be on edge, in case he got there too late or had to take too much time off. Phew. Weight lifted.

Then came our due date: June 11th. Our wedding anniversary. Come on—that’s ridiculous! How serendipitous! Sure, only 4% of babies are actually (naturally) born on their due dates, but that felt like a pretty amazing sign of something great. Thanks, little Junebug, a Feng Shui master couldn’t have planned it better.

As I started looking more and more pregnant, I started getting nervous about what that meant for my business. Would clients not want to sign up for new projects thinking I would be ‘clocking out’ of the working world? Would I find it hard to be confident and strategic with a bump? Yes, it’s irrational, out-dated thinking, but nevertheless, it’s something women face all the time—and there are always comments that catch you by surprise. I needn’t have worried. Our clients were lovely. Of course, they were, so many of them are also women or have families of their own. Plus, a real Easter egg arrived with the announcement of Jacinda Ardern, Prime Minister of New Zealand’s, own pregnancy. Wow. Fantastic! The leader of a country—and not just any country—the country where I was going to have my baby—pregnant—and even more so, due around the exact same time as me. I was inspired. I felt like Wonder Woman. I can do this!

Everything was falling into place, until they started falling apart. Then all those little signs seemed so foolish and inconsequential. Who cares? What does it matter? I was angry at myself for reading into them. I should’ve stuck with my usual dash-of-salt approach to good luck.

But that’s no way to be. Instead of if something seems too good to be true, it probably is, maybe a better way of looking at it would be: if something seems too good to be true, be grateful and make the most of the here and now, because tomorrow could be anything. 

Those incredible gifts, whether cosmic or not, are no less special considering what we’re going through. They are still worth celebrating and enjoying. Wherever the lightning strikes, we can still marvel at it.

There’s 16 sleeps to go until our next scan.