My Pregnancy Truths

(disclaimer: these are of course not everyone’s truths — only what I’ve experienced through one pregnancy nine months in)

For the longest time, I wasn’t sure I wanted kids.  I was not one of those girls that had always dreamed of becoming a mom – I just wasn’t, and I’m not apologetic about it.  I was completely selfish, and wanted to do everything I wanted to do whenever I wanted to do it and not have anything to worry about –except when to drop the dog off at the kennel.

When I found out I was pregnant, my first thought was oh my God.  (Don’t worry, the second one was one of happiness).  That one glance at the pregnancy test, and I knew our lives were dramatically different.  We were no longer making decisions that worked for us — we had to make sure that every thing we did would fit into our new lifestyle.

These last nine months have been hard, even though I’ve been graced with a pretty easy pregnancy, symptom-wise.  And I KNOW that some people would kill to have all of this happen to them — I know  that.  I’m not being insensitive — but these are my honest thoughts and the things I’m going through.

I am exhausted.  There is no position in the world I can find that I can get comfortable in.  And sometimes, I will just sit and cry, because I honestly just want to go to sleep.  I’m still working my normal hours and still working out, and this girl needs some sleep.

I am huge.  I have not been one to shy away from my weight struggles/body issues on this blog, and even though I knew that body changes are one of the huge things of pregnancy, it still hit me pretty hard.  I don’t feel pretty, and I’ve shied away from the camera or any pictures of me that might be taken.  Now add in the fact that I honestly have five outfits on repeat, and I just get frustrated.  I miss all of my pre-pregnancy clothes — I miss just going into my closet and being able to pick something out and wearing it.  And then, I worry about not being able to fit back into it at all.  Which scares me more than anything.  I know that the weight is not going to magically fall off as soon as Sheffield is born, but what if it just doesn’t ever?  I’ve played that game in my lifetime, and I don’t want to go back to that place.

I am scared.  I have never been so petrified in all my life.  And I’m a big damn chicken, so that’s saying a lot.  I have never worried the way I’ve worried in the last nine months — I am bringing a new life into this world.  I don’t know what else is scarier than that.  I am scared of any and everything that can happen during labor — I don’t have a birth plan.  My birth plan is to get my child into this world safely, and I’m pretty sure the doctors know how to do that better than me.  Sure, I’d like some music, but saying no to the doctor breaking my water if need be?  Probably not going to happen.  I am terrified of bringing him home and keeping him alive.  And I’m terrified of how he will turn out with me as his mom.

I am swollen.  Everywhere.  My feet.  My hands.  My face.  My wrists to the point I can’t get any of my watches on. Even your lady parts.  (TMI – whatevs) It is honestly the most uncomfortable thing in the world — even with shoes off and feet up, it takes a while for the swelling to go down.  I have an upside-down trashcan under my desk to keep my feet up.  You gotta do what you gotta do – also #classy.

I have to pee all. the. time.  That is no joke.  I will go to the bathroom and have to pee again ten minutes later.

I will use pregnancy as an excuse to eat another cookie.  #noshameinmygame

But I don’t use pregnancy as a reason to not stay active.  I love working out — it allows me my “me” time.  For the time being, I’m doing a prenatal yoga/barre workout with some weight training and B and I will go on walks (4 miles!!) sometimes on the weekends.  I think I just like to be reassured that my body can still move.

Getting out of bed or off a couch or off the floor is an event.  I literally have to prepare myself for any of those by giving myself a pep talk.

Heartburn feels like you’re dying.  I never really experienced it before I got pregnant, but it feels like a teeny heart attack.  NOT FUN.

And the worst of them all — people still suck when you’re pregnant.  I have not noticed any extra niceness just because I have a giant bowling ball growing on the front of me.  I clearly knew how hard it was to leave a door open for a non-pregnant lady, but apparently it’s also ok to let one slam in one’s face (thanks dude at Regions field — you’re a top notch human being).

Whew!  I hope you all have a great weekend!!