After my first post last night I laid in bed for hours thinking of all kinds of ideas to write my next post about. There are so many things to write about and I have so much to say. I couldn’t turn my mind off. Actually, I thought about the blog for five minutes and spent the next two hours watching braid tutorials on instagram under the covers with my phone on silent while Barry slept. Y’all… Braiding videos are my kryptonite, which is so stupid because I don’t even understand how to french braid. But somehow EVERY night I convince myself that my brain can tell my fingers how to make the perfect messy 5 strand dutchwaterfallmilkmaidfishtail braid during Owen’s morning nap the next day.
WELL ANYWAY…. Here we are for my second post ever. This post is going to make my former coworkers SO happy, because we get to reminisce about my pregnancy. Before I begin, you should know that for 9 months I was the butt of every joke in the teacher’s lounge because my pregnancy was so hilariously obnoxious and I was such a pregnant moron. There were four of us that were pregnant at the same time and all of the other ladies handled their pregnancies with such grace. One coworker came to work and taught for a few days while dilated to at least a 3 and having steady contractions. Another coworker taught until the day her water broke during a morning staff meeting. All of them were super delightful during their pregnancies. Not me… I was eating at least 4 donuts a day, puking between each class period, casually peeing my pants during my lessons, sending mass emails talking about how suicidal my fifth graders’ recess B.O. was making me, trying to figure out a way to get legal maternity leave months before the baby was born, and taking off my clothes in the parking lot (we’ll get to that part later.) Side note: I really AM a good teacher and employee, okay?
So here’s the deal… everybody handles their pregnancies differently. Some women absolutely love being pregnant and they enjoy every single moment of it. Some women don’t have morning sickness, debilitating fatigue, steady nausea, round ligament pain, and restless leg syndrome. (lucky bitches) Some women DO experience terrible pregnancy symptoms, but continue to love and cherish every single ache and pain up until their sweet baby is in their arms. If you are this woman, stop right now and pat yourself on the back. Go tell your husband how lucky he is to be living with such a pregnant saint. Tell your friends and family members that they are so fortunate to not have to listen to your dramatic complaints about the newest disgusting pregnancy development happening to your body. If you aren’t starting to understand where I am going with this post, I will go ahead and come out and say it: I 100% LOATHED BEING PREGNANT. And you know what? That’s okay.
Let’s take a trip down memory lane, shall we? Before we begin this trip you must know that Owen was unplanned. I was diagnosed with endometriosis in college, and had surgery to remove a uterine cyst a few years ago, so I assumed that getting pregnant would be extremely hard for me. Psyche. The day that I found out I was pregnant I immediately called my friend Taryn (as in… i was still on the toilet) and cried about how scared I was. I then called my sister and woke her up from a nap frantically telling her I was pregnant, and then I texted my coworker, Julie, because I had been sending her fake pictures of pregnancy tests all week (we had been joking about how my stupidity at work must be because I had “pregnancy brain” ….. lol… ) I was so freaked out about my positive test, that after telling 3 people in five minutes, I realized I hadn’t even THOUGHT about my sweet husband. Poor Barry… when he walked in from work I was nervous laugh-crying and I handed him the pregnancy test, which clearly said 1-2 PREGNANT. (meaning I am one or two weeks along) Barry looked at it, got VERY confused, and said “WHAT DOES THIS MEAN????” I said, “Barry…. it says I am pregnant.” He nervously said, “WHAT DOES ONE OR TWO PREGNANCIES MEAN??????” Sweet Barry. We hugged and cried with both joy and terror for like the next bazillion hours. We picked April up and met my parents for dinner to break the news. April still laughs when she thinks about that car ride. She said Barry was gripping the wheel so hard his knuckles were white. I’m sure his expression was a sweet smile mixed with an “I’m about to poop my pants” face. I love him.
FIRST TRIMESTER: Guys… if trimesters were people, I would run over the first trimester person with my car. The overwhelming fear of miscarriage, mixed with the SEVERE nausea. I’m telling you… I was a monster. Imagine having to go to work with the stomach flu every day for 2 months. And now imagine being a TEACHER with the stomach flu for 2 months- loving on your kids, engaging your learners, delivering knock out lessons. It was the most difficult time for me. I threw up getting ready, during my 40 minute morning commute, between each class period, and on the way home EVERY. FREAKING. DAY. I wanted nothing to do with my precious husband. I had a super heightened sense of smell during the first trimester, and I swear I could smell 5 different smells on Barry at one time. Not bad smells, just smells. Smelling smells when you’re 90% committed to throwing up 100% of the day is SO DIFFICULT. He would try to hug me and I could smell his clothes, his hair, his skin, his breath, his beard??? Needless to say, I was repulsed by any form of affection for almost 3 months. And you know what? Barry’s love language is physical touch (shocking) so he basically thought I completely hated him.
At 12 weeks we announced to the Facebook world that we were expecting. Have you ever seen a more awkward kiss? Do I look like I’ve been kidnapped and forced to kiss this redheaded stranger in my bed? When you look at this kiss do you think “Oh… she’s definitely into that.” or is it more like, “Oh she definitely just swallowed throw up back down on ‘…2’ right before her sister snapped the photo.”
*This was the first time I realized that lying about your true state through pictures on social media is exhausting and stupid.*
How is this post so far?….. Are you feeling uplifted and encouraged yet???
My nausea was more manageable in the second trimester. Thank God. Barry was starting to feel less like he was being punished by God for choosing me as a wife. This trimester was especially eventful because in the second trimester your body slowly begins to TOTALLY BETRAY YOU. The amount of pain involved in putting on mass amounts of weight solely in your core in a matter of 12 weeks is insane… especially when you’re standing and moving around all day. Another fun fact about pregnancy is that your body starts growing weird things. I discovered skin cancer growing on my forehead in the second trimester, and my dermatologist had to remove it right away because pregnancy also causes cancer cells to multiply rapidly. ARE YOU JOKING, PREGNANCY???? (Don’t worry April, I’m not going to embarrass myself and tell everybody about that other weird growth on my nipple). Also Owen was slowly growing into a beast and hung out right on my bladder at all times so this is when the casual pants peeing started.
Speaking of Owen slowly growing into a beast, in the third trimester he kicked three of my ribs out… So do what you want with that information. The third trimester was miserably uncomfortable, but so uncomfortable that it ended up just being hilarious. I could no longer bend over, I couldn’t sit still without readjusting, Owen thrashed around underneath my rib cage from 8 pm until midnight every night, and getting into our memory foam mattress bed every night was like a suicide back buster into a pit of quick sand. I. was. DONE. Despite exercising more than I ever have in my life, I got sooooo muuuccchhhh ceeeelllluuullllliiiiiite. It was as if somebody washed me, tossed me into a dryer on tumble dry low, and threw me onto the designated laundry chair where clothes sit in a wad for a week before they get put up. SO MANY WRINKLES. Here is hilarious evidence of my brand new cottage cheese thighs.
During the third trimester I developed extremely intense restless leg syndrome. My legs itched so badly that I had to wrap them in cold towels and put oven mitts on at night time. Giggles. The itching and creepy crawly feeling was so excruciating that I sometimes took off my pants in the parking lot before getting into my car for my commute home from work. This is real life. I could have been arrested and charged as a sex offender, people. That’s how many F’s I did not give. I even quit my job 9 days before the last day of school because I was getting maybe 3 hours of sleep a night, and was getting blood work done every week for three weeks to see if I was developing a serious liver condition called Cholestasis (but maybe because I was just sick of putting deodorant between my thighs and chasing around 96 eleven year olds every day…you decide.)
So here is MY truth: Pregnancy was awful for me, and THAT IS ALLOWED. I have friends who talk to me about “secretly” hating their lives while they are pregnant. Friends who feel completely alone, depressed, and already feel like unfit mothers because of how much they hate their pregnancies. How sad is it that we choose to emotionally isolate ourselves at a time when we need support the most, rather than be honest with other women about what we are going through?
Here is a UNIVERSAL truth: The way you feel about your pregnancy has NOTHING to do with the way you feel about your baby.
Hating pregnancy does not mean you will hate motherhood. Hating pregnancy does not mean that you are ungrateful for the gift of life. Hating pregnancy does not mean that you have forgotten or have stopped praying for all of the women who would give anything in the world to be in your position. And lastly, hating pregnancy doesn’t mean that you wouldn’t do it all over again in a heart beat.