Saturday morning, 6:46 am. Pressure...roll over. Ugh. MORE pressure. Okay, okay, I'll get up on my one day to sleep in to empty my overly full bladder. Of course I know what this means. Once I'm up the nausea will take over and I will enjoy my daily morning routine of hacking bile into the toilet from my empty stomach. Maybe I'll pee really fast and jump back in bed and fall right asleep before my body knows I'm awake.
I return to my pillow, hoping for at least another half hour of sleep, but.....OH NO...GAG....ok I'm up! Go, go, go, go!! Yep, some lovely bile is the perfect start to another day filled with nausea, bloating, dry heaving, and puke. Sorry for the explicit details, but this is all new in my life and no one painted a clear picture for me, so consider this a gift if you have not yet ventured into the world of child bearing. I'm nine weeks today and I feel like shit.
I started this blog with the hopes of writing about marriage, teaching, my love for nature and such, but just after I decided on a title, designed my page, and filled in my profile, the stick showed two purple lines, positive for pregnancy. I in no way want my blog to become a mom blog, or all about pregnancies and babies. But motherhood will be a new title added to my identity and so there will be some posts that involve this topic. When I learned of this news, I was pleasantly suprised that getting pregnant didn't take as long as I had expected it to. For years, I have been told that "some people have a really difficult time, so you better not wait too long to start trying, especially with your 'condition'." I have PCOS- polycystic ovarian syndrome and hypothyroidism (subjects of a whole separate post), and I am not getting any younger. But thankfully, I didn't start trying until my husband and I were ready, because well, here we are.
Over the last several years, I have witnessed many "naive" couples dreaming of a little boy or girl and imagining how wonderful and fluffy their lives will be with a new baby in the picture. Many of them had no idea what they were getting themselves into until it was too late. I always prided myself in thinking that I was so aware of what children required of their parents. I nannied two little ones for four years, watched my sister mother four children--at one point all under the age of 5!--and I have taught 20 or so students each year for the past five years. I know what this requires. Children are work. Children are difficult. Children ruin your lives. I was unlike everyone else, because I knew that parenting wouldn't be easy, it wouldn't make my marriage any better, and it could possibly leave me fat, old, and tired looking. No thank you.
Until...I started wondering about the other part. "You're life will never be the same" they would say, "but kids are sooooo worth it." And "I couldn't imagine life any other way but with my little Sally." Or "Children are the greatest gift from the Lord." I used to think these people were trying to convinve themselves that all the hard stuff really was worth it, because maybe in fact, it wasn't. I sure heard plenty about the sleepless nights, and temper tantrums, and explosive poop, and sore nipples. But then I considered the fact that most people choose to have kids. And most people have more than one. So there had to be some truth to these positive adages, right?
So here I am. I knew it would be hard. I knew there would be sacrifices. I just didn't know that they started right then and there from the get go. Many women don't tell people about their secret news until they are 12 weeks. This means they are past all the crappy parts and you never hear exactly how awful it is. And I knew women had morning sickness and that the nausea lasted all day long and that they were exhausted, but I didn't know it felt like this.
It hasn't sunk in yet that there is a real baby in there, that it is living and has a beating heart. I have not yet had my physical, haven't heard it's heart, haven't seen it move via ultrasound, and I won't know what I am having for another two and a half months. Right now, I feel like I have a disease, like my body is being taken over by some parasite. My clothes don't fit, I can't go to the bathroom, and I my skin resembles a character from a horror movie. (Okay that last one was a bit of an exaggeration, but it's not a pretty sight.) None of my friends looked this bad at this stage of pregnancy, or ever for that matter. My body is holding onto fat and I don't even enjoy eating! I'd rather be fed intravenously. Most days there is nothing that sounds good to eat, but I must eat or vomit, so I eat starchy carbs and food that is completely unnatural and processed (very opposite of my normal diet). I bloat immediately after I eat, and then the nausea comes back as indegestion. I look puffy and tired and fat. I'm not ready to tell, but my secret is spilling the beans on it's own, with our without my permission.
What the heck is that thing called a "pregnancy glow?" I am convinced it must be something nice people came up with to say instead of telling you you look like hell. Which by the way, one of my fellow co-workers said to me last night. He told me I must be having a baby and congratulations. I asked him why he knew about it, since I haven't told anyone at work except my third grade teammates, to which he replied, "Well, you just look like...you can just tell."
I clarified, "You mean, because I look like shit?"
"Well, yeah."
Thanks Mr. Asshole.
I know that this is all temporary and that it will "all be worth it." Yada yada yada. I am not normally a complainer, but this is the hardest thing I have ever done and I was completely unaware what pregnancy entailed during the first trimester. This is not to discredit how incredibly lucky and thankful I am to be pregnant and to be able to carry my own child. I know that this is an amazing priviledge and I told myself before I got here to appreciate the nauseau and feeling ugly, because so many women would gladly take it on if they could just get pregnant. But I also never understood why pregnant women complained a lot or why they couldn't just be thankful for the blessing of bearing a child. NOW I KNOW WHY. So here I start, eating my own words, taking back my judgement on others, humbling myself to where every single parent has been. NO ONE really knows what they are getting into when they choose to have a baby. NO ONE is truly ready for this. I didn't know until now. I am trying to enjoy it all but right now, I feel like hell.
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