Tuesday, September 27, 2011

In Between Days

I'll just come out and say it. I do not enjoy being pregnant. I did not particularly enjoy it the first time, and I have enjoyed it even less this time around.

My first pregnancy came after a long wait and a lot of heartache. I was overjoyed and disbelieving when I saw those two lines…and terrified that something would go wrong and take it all away again. Yet at the same time I was NOT one of those women that fully embrace their pregnancy symptoms, deliriously happy and grateful to be puking my guts out ‘round –the-clock.  As much as I was grateful to BE pregnant, and to have a medically uneventful pregnancy, I could not make myself enjoy the nausea, exhaustion, and discomfort. And I felt guilty about that. I knew how lucky I was and how many women would give anything to be in my position…yet feeling like utter crap just doesn’t do it for me. I was quite active and fit prior to my first pregnancy and had every intention of continuing, but this pregnancy thing knocked me flat on my ass and kept me there for nearly the full 9 months.  This time around was no different. I started puking at week 5 and that seamlessly transitioned to migraines, intense heartburn, shortness of breath, and now insomnia. I am used to being very active and efficient---it is SO hard to have to slow down, delegate, rest.

It’s not just the physical changes, though. My everyday emotions and tendency towards anxiety are heightened by the hormones. I am overwhelmed at all that needs to be done, and not having the energy to deal with it makes me feel like I’m drowning. Being a planner through and through, the unknowns of this time don’t sit easily with me. I realize this is an incredibly pessimistic mindset…that many people adore this time of expectancy and possibility. I just happen to really like knowing what is ahead. I like to research, to plan, to prepare myself mentally and physically for what is coming. This time of limitless “possibility” opens up way too many nightmares in my head.  What if What if What if?

And I can’t even have a glass of wine to take the edge off!

I am simultaneously impatient to move onto the next phase and dreading the potential (OK, let’s face it, inevitable) chaos. I definitely wanted to have a second child. I want my son to be a big brother and have a playmate. To have “kids”.  But I also feel that we had finally gotten into a rhythm. Things are GOOD. I love being able to give my son my one-on-one attention, and I feel sad for him that he only knew it for such a short period of time. There are a lot of moments of our days that I absolutely cherish, that I am going to miss. I know it’ll smooth out and we’ll settle into a new normal…but the transition is going to be hard on all 3 of us. The whole process has been tinged with an ambivalence that resulted in a bit of denial early on, and a longer bit of depression later on that has finally mellowed to acceptance. 

Because it’s happening.  Soon.  And there ain’t a damn thing I can do about it!

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