Add not being able to eat dairy (or maybe just anything with fat?) in the early morning or evening now (due to heartburn) to the list of complaints. And that is all the complaining I will do in this post.
I imagine that some people, upon reading my last post, would be surprised that I am already planning on having more children even though my entire pregnancy has been fairly miserable. I would not blame them. I am more than ready for this to be over, and feel like I must be crazy to already want to do it over again. Multiple times. Because we want a big family.
I know many women get over the whole "I am never putting myself through this again" thing a while after they give birth. I mean...look at what you get out of it! And misery is retrospect is not as bad as in the moment. One of my best friends was telling me about a coworker who had a truly awful pregnancy, making herself and everyone around her completely miserable for nine months. The other week, my friend overheard this coworker telling a customer how wonderful pregnancy is and how much she loved being pregnant. Did she forget? Was she just lying because she felt guilty about being miserable? Or maybe she just realized that it was worth it, and that the end is worth the pain of the process.
The last is what I am hoping for. Because I refuse to lie to people about how I have felt. And I doubt I will forget. But maybe a good analogy is that it is like running a marathon. Except for this marathon, you have not trained at all, and you just get thrown in and told to run. So you feel like crap the entire time. But when you reach that finish line...well, I hate running and I can not imagine any reward being worth running a marathon, but I hope you understand my point here. (It's a marathon where they give you a baby at the end!)
I hate being pregnant, but I love children. I want to be a mother more than anything. I am simultaneously excited and terrified out of my mind. And even though I have nine more weeks of this to get through (I told my dear husband last night that I would be so happy for womulet to be premature if I could be guaranteed no serious complications or health issues), I know I will willingly go through it again, probably soon. And again. And again. Et cetera.
Because I see little kids in the store, and giddiness bubbles up inside of me, and I think, "I get one of those!" And I see dads with their toddlers and can not WAIT to see my husband with our children, because I know he is going to be one of those amazing, adorable dads that the kids worship and vise-versa. And because my dad nearly threw out his back, leaping out of his chair and flinging his arms in the air, when we told my parents that we were expecting, and I know that he is going to be the most amazing grandpa ever. (He has been waiting for grandchildren ever since he and mom decided to not have more kids.)
So yes. I am miserable. And I have a lot that I can and do complain about. (God bless my patient, loving, wonderful husband.) But I already know it will be worth it. At least until they become teenagers.
Blessings on your travels,
Emily
I imagine that some people, upon reading my last post, would be surprised that I am already planning on having more children even though my entire pregnancy has been fairly miserable. I would not blame them. I am more than ready for this to be over, and feel like I must be crazy to already want to do it over again. Multiple times. Because we want a big family.
I know many women get over the whole "I am never putting myself through this again" thing a while after they give birth. I mean...look at what you get out of it! And misery is retrospect is not as bad as in the moment. One of my best friends was telling me about a coworker who had a truly awful pregnancy, making herself and everyone around her completely miserable for nine months. The other week, my friend overheard this coworker telling a customer how wonderful pregnancy is and how much she loved being pregnant. Did she forget? Was she just lying because she felt guilty about being miserable? Or maybe she just realized that it was worth it, and that the end is worth the pain of the process.
The last is what I am hoping for. Because I refuse to lie to people about how I have felt. And I doubt I will forget. But maybe a good analogy is that it is like running a marathon. Except for this marathon, you have not trained at all, and you just get thrown in and told to run. So you feel like crap the entire time. But when you reach that finish line...well, I hate running and I can not imagine any reward being worth running a marathon, but I hope you understand my point here. (It's a marathon where they give you a baby at the end!)
I hate being pregnant, but I love children. I want to be a mother more than anything. I am simultaneously excited and terrified out of my mind. And even though I have nine more weeks of this to get through (I told my dear husband last night that I would be so happy for womulet to be premature if I could be guaranteed no serious complications or health issues), I know I will willingly go through it again, probably soon. And again. And again. Et cetera.
Because I see little kids in the store, and giddiness bubbles up inside of me, and I think, "I get one of those!" And I see dads with their toddlers and can not WAIT to see my husband with our children, because I know he is going to be one of those amazing, adorable dads that the kids worship and vise-versa. And because my dad nearly threw out his back, leaping out of his chair and flinging his arms in the air, when we told my parents that we were expecting, and I know that he is going to be the most amazing grandpa ever. (He has been waiting for grandchildren ever since he and mom decided to not have more kids.)
So yes. I am miserable. And I have a lot that I can and do complain about. (God bless my patient, loving, wonderful husband.) But I already know it will be worth it. At least until they become teenagers.
Blessings on your travels,
Emily
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