I haven’t written very much about being pregnant on the blog. It’s not because I haven’t had a particular experience, or that it hasn’t been all-consuming. It’s just that, when someone is pregnant, especially for the first time, it seems to be all they talk about (me included.) I just think that people must get tired of hearing a woman talk about being pregnant, especially since millions of women have done it for thousands and thousands of years.
Overall, I have really enjoyed being pregnant. I love the almost constant kicks and nudges that I feel. I love watching elbows, knees, and feet move across my belly. I love the way I look pregnant, I don’t feel fat or unattractive…just a bit larger and more ungainly than usual. I love that I’m doing something really important just by taking care of myself. And I love knowing that the love of my life and I have created a little person that will be a source of joy and hope to us and hopefully to the world as well.
On the other hand, I don’t like having limitations. I don’t like saying, “I’m lightheaded, I’m just going to sit here for a bit” (a consequence of the low iron). I don’t like having to eat just because it’s time or because I don’t feel well. I don’t like being so hot at night that I have to sleep with the fan directly on me and can’t touch my husband or any covers. I certainly don’t like having to excuse myself to the bathroom every 30 minutes. In my head, I want so badly to be the strongest pregnant woman that ever lived. And that has not been my experience. If anything, it’s been very humbling to be pregnant and have to go slower. To sit down more often. To sleep more. To stop for snack breaks. All of those things that are permissible because you’re pregnant, and which make me crazy to have to rely upon. I’ve had to get over it. Probably has been really good for me. I’ll have to get over it again when I have a newborn and need all the help I can get from anyone who will give it to me. Good times.
These last several weeks have felt like a scene out of a movie for me. I’ve never felt so content, relaxed, and happy. I’ve gotten over needing to apologize for being a bit behind the 8 ball. I laugh easily and am enamored with my wonderful husband. It’s not that I’m not usually happy, it’s just that joy doesn’t always bubble up this freely. I feel like I’ve given myself a break. A big one. One that I probably should’ve given myself years ago. And I like it here in break-land. This Type A/B Personality may have just crossed into a Type B-. For awhile at least.
Will I feel this good after the baby is born? Will it be this easy to laugh at tomorrow, forever? Will I feel fraught with worry as soon as there’s another little person to care for? I’m just trying to keep in mind that while I may very well have stumbled upon a change of mindset, I could feel very different in a few weeks. Maybe I can just remind myself of how much nicer it is here in 37 weeks pregnant land.
And they said I would be miserable. Depends on how you look at it. Dizzy, hungry, have-to-pee. Sleepy. Achy. And never happier.