I've been hesitant to write this post, but frankly feel that I would be better off to just get it off my chest. I'm going to start with one of those annoying blanket statements...
Pregnancy is hard. So much harder then I thought it would be.
Now let me backpedal!
I am so thankful to be pregnant. So grateful every. single. day. for the little girl growing big and strong inside of me. Every pregnancy is a miracle (seriously, its mind boggling how one little sperm and one little egg create 7.5lbs of life!), but I feel especially blessed because of our experience with our first pregnancy. We want a baby so much, and losing our first was so hard for both of us. I cried for months. Little things hurt me. And seeing those two lines in June, then the heartbeat in July, well it was a balm. It didn't make all the hurt go away, and it didn't take away the pain of losing our first (who will always be our first), but it did give us a new chance, a new start. And because of that, it felt like twice the blessing.
But here's the thing: I really wanted to be one of those women who glowed with pregnancy. Who wore it with ease and grace. Most of the time, I'm not. I certainly have my days (today is actually pretty damn good) where I walk around with a smile on my face and I'm sure people look at my blooming belly and think that I'm such a lovely vision of womanhood. To them I say, "HA!" I spent the weeks up to 19 feeling nauseous, not being able to eat well, and having spells of lightheadedness because of that (the only glow there, was a cold sweat as I tried not to puke on people). I had three spotting scares in the first trimester, and spent week 22 horribly sick... not to mention the scare with her amniotic fluid. Week 23 and now 24 I'm dealing with the pulled muscle that resulted from that sickness, and to top it off, expanding ribs that push on that muscle leaving me sore, aching, and frankly, very uncomfortable most of the day.
Yesterday I left the office to go for a walk around the block, a chance to get some fresh air and stretch a bit. While I was out, I called Trav, under the guise of wanting to talk to him about daycare stuff, but really because I just needed to hear his voice and be comforted. I was having a Bad Day. I was in pain, and that pain was making me feel lightheaded and slightly nauseated. I am so grateful for Trav in all this... he listens to me complain, comforts me when he can, and treats me with little things (letting me get extra sleep, giving in to my food cravings, etc). He's involved... going to as many of my appointments with me as he can, going to visit daycares this friday on his day off, and generally trying to make sure that I'm well taken care of.
I warned him last night that it already feels like my intestines are in my ribcage, and that our little girl has no more 'up' to take advantage of... which leaves 'out', so I'm probably going to have a huge monster belly by the end of this pregnancy (see picture evidence below).
Being the amazing guy he is, he didn't gulp too audibly at that. Lol.
Part of me feels horrible for complaining at all... especially since it feels like that's all I've been doing lately. It feels like a slight against my daughter, kicking away in my belly. There are women out there that would kill to be pregnant, and I was one of those women 6 months ago. But I would be doing no one any favors by pretending that just because this is what I wanted, what I still want more then words could ever express, that it is all fun and cheer... that it isn't ridiculously hard. If I had to be pregnant for another 10 months to get Gwen in the end, then I would. But Lord Almighty on High, I am so glad that I don't. I'm so glad that I'm more then halfway there.
Because pregnancy is hard people. There, I said it. Pregnancy can suck.
But as Ro told me, "In the end you get your baby, and that's the good part."
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