I’m not going to say that I’m re-re-re-recommitting to
writing more often and regularly because I know that it never seems to work.
But I am saying that perhaps I’ll start trying again. If I have a thought at work, I’ll open up Word,
jot it down and add it later. Even if this blog turns into a list of one-liners
that at some point meant something to me, that’s better than not keeping a log
of anything right?
Right.
So here goes.
I’m pregnant. And I’m happy.
We’ve waited for a long time for the RIGHT time and even
though it still never goes according to plan, I think our timing couldn’t have
been more perfect. I have a relatively stress free job (finally), I’m
surrounded – and more importantly, supported - by family, Peanut is going to
have a cousin the same age – CONGRATS KATHRYN! Ben will be done with school so
he can be with Peanut as much as I am and be the dad/provider he’s always
wanted to be. With that optimistic premise, here’s some of the ugly truth…
Honesty:
For weeks 8-16ish, I was miserable. I didn’t allow myself to
post anything on Facebook and I didn’t want to talk to anyone about my
pregnancy because I only wanted to whine and cry about it. I was losing weight
at an alarming rate and couldn’t keep ANYTHING down. My stomach was relentlessly
trying to rip itself out of my body and my whole body was in a constant state
of aches. Knowing my level of curiosity, I knew at some point Peanut would be
interested in knowing all about its’ childhood. I remember going through mom’s
journal and only reading on days that were near or on my birthday or other
significant ‘me’ events. I figured a child of mine would do the same selfish
thing someday and I didn’t want the only record it could find to be me talking
about how this peanut was actually eating me from the inside out and how the
first thing I was going to do when I saw it was punch it in the face. I’m sure
I’ll feel these emotions multiple times throughout Peanut’s lifeJ
Anyway, now I’m 22 weeks along – HALFWAY THERE!!! And even
though I still have to run like mad to the bathroom while holding a trashcan to
my mouth on a regular basis, it’s gotten MUCH better. Why am I sharing this now
if my intent was to keep this from my child? Well, my intent is not to keep
this from my child. Some of my most difficult days were made tolerable by
thinking of my conversation with dad where I asked him about mom’s pregnancy
patterns. Knowing there’s an end in sight (that’s shorter than 9 months) was
sometimes all I needed to know. So Peanut, if you’re a girl, (and future girl
peanuts) there is an end in sight. It won’t be the same as mine, or anyone
else’s, but mine got manageable around 16 weeks.
I always knew I would share all this ‘not so rosy’ pregnancy
information at some point. But my state of mind wasn’t ready to talk tough
about it while I was in the moment. Now I can say – the pain is real, you’re
not weak and the memory fades. It’s only been about a month, and I’m still
dealing with it but you learn to manage it and find the small joys – even if
that small joy is that you managed to keep down 300 calories one day. It’s not
easy and I can’t even say it’s worth it… yet;) But you learn what your body and
brain can handle and you adapt.
Barfing:
To be totally honest, the past few days I’ve been thinking a
lot about throwing up. Yeah, gross huh. But seriously, I’m at the point where
I’m grateful for it. I haven’t been to see a doctor since June and I don’t get
to see one again until October. I don’t get a lot of variety in my diet and I’m
not showing a whole lot – which I know is normal for a 1st timer –
but with all those things on my mind, a woman can start to worry about the
health of her child. A friend recently lost her baby at about 11 weeks. She
didn’t even know it had happened until she went to a regularly scheduled
doctor’s visit. That’s when I got grateful for throwing up. I have no idea how
Peanut is developing or growing but I do know this, as long as I’m sick – it’s
safe to assume that Peanut’s still wreaking havoc in thereJ
Toughness:
Why do women (in particular) have such a need to appear
tough? I’m talking about many of the most important women in my life. Believe
me, I know there are some weaklings out there;) I realized a few weeks ago (one
of the reasons) why I was so miserable being pregnant. I didn’t feel like I was
qualified. I had to go on a chemotherapy anti-nausea pill after I had lost 20
lbs in less than a month. Weren’t women created to be able to handle carrying a
child? Why did my body need some special treatment to do what other women have
no problem doing? Other people can handle it, why can’t I?
Then I had a really great conversation with my best friend
ever, who was going through a similar situation. We talked a lot about the need
to feel tough. It was then I realized that it was such a stupid need. We
put on this façade of physical toughness instead of trying to develop the
genuine strength that we actually desire. Its’ okay to feel gross sometimes and
it’s okay to say so – isn’t recognizing the problem the first step in solving
it? Isn’t recognizing the fact that we’ve got some strengthening to do, the motivator
to get strengthened up? Obviously there is a balance – nobody likes a whiner.
But I’ve seen some close friends do more damage to themselves trying to be
tough than being honest about how they’re feeling.
I think I’m gonna go lift some weights now:)
