It’s taken me quite a while to come to terms with this, but I think it really must be said: I really don’t like being pregnant.
Of course that in no way reflects on the fact that I love my children, born and unborn with all my heart and soul. It’s just… pregnancy is complicated and challenging and it makes me feel very much out of control of my own body. There are moments of blissful awe and amazing strength, but for the most part, I’m just not a fan.
It starts with exhaustion and nausea, in the middle you’re just in the early parts of the discomfort and constant kicks to your most vital organs, including your bladder. If you’re lucky, you don’t have much trouble with pain in your back and hips, but that’s pretty much unavoidable by the third trimester. Plus the swelling, the heartburn, glucose testing, constant peeing in a cup for analysis, and several rounds of donating blood for routine tests. Don’t forget the giving up medium rare steaks, sushi, and cutting back on your beloved coffee. AND, that doesn’t even cover the stresses of finding the right care provider, taking extra birth classes, registering for a mountain of crap essential baby gear, becoming an object of shock and awe at your baby shower, and picking a freaking name. At least the second time around, I get to skip over a few things.
It’s just a struggle for me. I don’t have to like it though, and that’s the best part. I still get to have totally amazing babies and children in my life, because at least I am lucky enough to be able to carry and deliver a child into the world. For that I’m really am grateful, despite all the complaining.
I guess that means its all worth it.


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