Growing a human being inside of my body is the most miraculous thing I'll ever encounter in this lifetime. Nothing about the process of being pregnant and giving birth is not worth it. I'll never discount what an incredible thing it is. And that is my disclaimer. Let's continue.
Being pregnant is also not awesome in a lot of ways. I think a list format will most effectively convey my feelings.
1. You get big in a lot of places, not just your belly- For some people, this is not entirely true. Especially people who start out really small, and somehow, they maintain their tiny butt and only grow outward from their belly. Yay for them! Seriously, I'm jealous, but I've learned that being happy for people is way better than feeling contempt, so yay. For me, I'm disproportionately large from the waist down as it is, and I'm completely okay with that, it's just that everything gets so much bigger when I'm pregnant.
Being pregnant makes me so hungry, even and especially during the first part, when I also generally feel terrible. I know the biological basis of this is those hormones telling your body to increase the calorie intake and put on some weight for extra energy storage in case you encounter a situation where you're forced to stay in your cave and starve. I don't know why biology can't always catch up with modern times, but that is how it is. For me, I could not get enough processed carbs in those early weeks of pregnancy. There is not a situation where processed carbs are good for you, not even this one, and yet logic did not speak to me. My hunger was too much, and I think I went through two packs of white bagels before I was over this hump. When I was in Oregon, I never cooked (except when I made eggs), and it was one of the hungriest times of my life. I went through a shocking amount of yogurt, milk and cereal, cheese, peanut butter toast, fruit, and dark chocolate peanut butter cups. It was a probably a world record for most weight gained in a month. And the weight shows up in my face, which is the worst part. This was into my second trimester, too. The enormous appetite does not quickly pass.
I am reading Amy Poehler's book, Yes Please, right now. In it she makes reference to the fact that she had a difficult time losing weight after her second baby (and presumably not her first), which made her really sad. This provides no comfort to me. The only glimmer of hope is that she was 40 after giving birth to her second child, and I'll be 34. I'm old, but she was older, so hopefully that works in my favor.
I'm over the hump of being controlled by my appetite, but I still crave sugar. I eat ice cream about 70% of nights. Yesterday, we were out all day and stopped at Trader Joe's on the way home. (Gavin said "Bye Trader Joe's, see ya next time," all the way home. He loves it as much as I do.) Anyway, before the groceries had been unpacked, I had chugged most of the kefir right from the bottle (the kind with a lot of sugar), eaten two dark chocolate peanut butter cups, and had my Chai latte (first ingredient: sugar) brewing. I feel like I have pretty accurate knowledge of how much sugar is in most things, so I'm aware of what I'm consuming and know that it's bad for me. It doesn't stop me...but at least I can feel guilty about it. Because feeling guilty on top of feeling fat is totally awesome.
I have that terrible glucose challenge gestational diabetes test soon. If I get cut off from sugar, I'll be angry.
2. You can't sleep, and even if you can sleep, you're tired- You know that thing where you're not supposed to lie on your back when you're pregnant because your huge uterus crushes the return blood flow and it compromises the amount of oxygen you and your baby get? Yeah, I feel that almost instantly. I can't sleep on my stomach for obvious reasons, I can't lie on my back, and recently, if I'm sleeping on my right side, I wake up short of breath and with my heart racing. Which leaves only one option for sleep position. So when my left shoulder starts to ache or my left hip falls asleep, I'm up a creek. Also, I pee a lot and I'm really thirsty all the time. In the first part of pregnancy, at least this time around, my hormones had me waking up all hot and irritated. Which is not the same as the urban dictionary definition of "hot and bothered." (Let's not even go there...I don't even want to be touched with a ten foot pole right now.) I've lost so much sleep over the last five months or so. And now I'm reaching the point where I'm just exhausted, even if I do sleep. I feel like it's too early for me to be at this point already. I have over three months to go...
3. It's hard to bend over- Dropping something is so much worse than it used to be. Putting on shoes takes a long time because you have to sit there and motivate yourself to just do it. Shaving your legs is no longer a walk in the park, and painting your own toenails is something else entirely. But picking up your 32 pound kid off the ground is flirting with disc rupture. I try to avoid it at all costs but have found that it's nearly impossible. Somebody has to get him in and out of the car, put him in his chair for dinner (it's a really high chair), and get him in and out of the crib.
4. Then you have a baby, and it is so, so hard- You instantly fall in love with your baby, and it's incredible and all those things. But man is it hard. I still have post-traumatic stress. I had several key factors which contributed to it being the hardest (I suppose I can't call it the worst?) year of my life. The most prominent of which was that it was the most that Dylan has traveled and been away from home since I've known him. To compare, he has flown less than half the number of hours this year than he did last year. And it was usually something like getting a call one day in advance for a six day trip or something. So super uncool. Dylan is my rock, my light in the night, the voice of reason in our family, the most unshakeable person I've ever known. He's also a terrific dad and a terrific person. His absence shakes us up every single time he goes away. It's not something that ever gets easier. So when you haven't slept in months, your baby never stops crying or needing you, and you feel like you've lost control of everything in life, including your sanity, it makes for an especially trying time when you're forced to go it alone. Anyway, this is supposed to be about pregnancy, not the part that comes next. I have high hopes that this part of things will go much better the second time around because it's really the only option. If I have a repeat of round one, plus I have a toddler on board, I know that we simply will not survive. Anyhow, we'll be off to a good start if I can deliver a healthy baby and refrain from paralyzing any limbs in the process, leaving me bed-ridden in the hospital for four days, hooked up to a Foley catheter and compression stockings.
5. Then there's breastfeeding- Yeah, I tried to keep this just about pregnancy but decided to go all-inclusive. I remember I once asked Dylan if things were different and the man and woman could collaborate on having a baby, where one person is pregnant for months and months and has to give birth and the other person has to breastfeed, which would he choose? He chose being pregnant and giving birth. Definitely the correct answer. For all that your body has endured for 9+ months of growing the baby and pushing it out, breastfeeding is so much worse (but no less miraculous). I know lots of people think it's beautiful and love it. I do not. It's imprisonment and sometimes terrible, terrible pain. I'd rather give birth ten times than deal with a clogged duct that last for days and causes swelling up to my shoulder and deforms me and makes me incapable of sitting up straight. It's the longest lasting form of incredible pain I've ever experienced. I couldn't even make enough milk to keep Gavin satiated, even when I'd sit for hours and hours and hours nursing him. I can't remember what I did about eating and peeing during those endless hours, but somehow I survived. Oh, and breastfeeding ramps up my appetite again, right at the time that I feel most disgusted with my body. I cannot get enough to eat. I should start stocking my bagel supply right now.
Anyway, I continued nursing for as long as I could out of guilt, and I threw in the towel just shy of six months when I melted down because Gavin's constant crying was unbearable and making me mentally unstable. The doctor thought he had reflux and a milk allergy, and so we switched him to a special and very expensive formula and called it a day. He cried about 5% less, which still made a difference in improving my mental state, and being free of breastfeeding almost made me feel human again. (Almost. That first year is tough.) Let it be known that I'll try breastfeeding again, and I also have high hopes that it'll go much better this time around. I have no logical reason to think that, but if I can't believe that it will be better this time, then I will curl up in the fetal position in a dark corner and probably never return to normal life.
So, when people ask me how I'm feeling, I reply, "Good!" with a smile. Because all things considered, I do mostly feel good. (And because replying with "Terrified of what comes next," only plays to my social awkwardness.) I never get sick and throw up, and I'm fully mobile and not swollen yet (but I know it's coming). Everything else that's happening that makes me feel like crap just kind of goes along with the territory.
So that's being pregnant, in a nutshell. If you've never done it before, do not allow me to dissuade you. Plenty of people love it. Go talk to one of them.
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