From The Mom Who Hates being Pregnant

Truth: I am a mom who hates being pregnant.

My first pregnancy humbled me, but my second has leveled me. I feel immense guilt for saying that I hate being pregnant and admitting that I mostly feel drained and sick and anxious for it to just be over. That being said, the fact that there is so much to be grateful for is not lost on me, and I really am grateful for many things. Slowly but surely, I am bonding with this little soul. I just want to set the record straight – on behalf of myself and others like me who don’t have the giddy, glowing pregnancy they may have envisioned. I can hate being pregnant but love my kids endlessly. I can be absolutely miserable but filled with gratitude.

To my baby:

I may have cursed the world when I puked and peed my pants, but I will never forget a doctor telling me that the stronger the symptoms, the stronger the pregnancy… Whether it’s true or not, the fact that you were growing strong got me through those days. I lost weight and dignity but held on tight to that thought.

On the days I just wanted to waste away, you forced me to take care of myself. Nourishing you meant nourishing me. Despite dry heaving at just the sight of the refrigerator, you made me hold my breath and muscle through grabbing a popsicle when I didn’t think eating was an option.

So many nights, I laid awake, dreading the next tired, groggy day but completely unable to sleep. Knowing you were my reason, I was able to be patient. I imagined having you there with me for cuddles and smelling your hair and baby breath. I thought a lot about how I want your life to be; I may not have slept much, but I had many, many sweet dreams.

I wince when you kick my ribs or do full body rolls in my belly. You’re running out of room in there! But that doesn’t mean I ever want that to stop. It’s the most beautiful reminder that I’m not alone. I’ll never be alone. It is a reminder that one day soon you’ll be running around, fighting your brother, having the best time. It’s a reminder of the incredible growth – from poppy seed to watermelon. It hurts but it’s amazing.

I love you, and I can’t wait to meet you.

To my body:

You haven’t failed me; you’ve grown 2 amazing boys.

You have stretched to your limits to hold them.

You have kept us all alive, even when I haven’t been able to feed you.

You have gone without sleep to prepare me for newborn nights.

You have worked and loved

and cooked and cleaned

and walked and played

and sang and prayed

and held little hands

…all while performing a miracle.

It has all been worth it. It will all be worth it.