A pre-warning to readers; if you cannot fathom any negativity towards pregnancy, STOP READING NOW.
This is my personal opinion of MY pregnancy. And yes, it’s supposed to be funny, and embarrassing!
You have been warned 😉
I watched a movie last night, What to Expect When You’re Expecting. I have a new hero. Her name is Wendy (Elizabeth Banks). All Wendy wanted during her pregnancy, was ‘the glow’. That infamous pregnancy glow that so many woman talk about, and I do believe that I have seen it on a few pregnant woman myself. But Wendy didn’t get the pregnancy glow. Instead, all she got were haemorrhoids, back ache, cankles (a pregnant woman will know exactly what I mean, whether or not she had a breezy pregnancy), hot flushes, over-active hormones, and having to deal with the fact that she was permanently uncomfortable. Wendy and her husband Gary (Ben Falcone) had tried for 2 years to fall pregnant; this is what they wanted. I think at the end of it all, Wendy would have just been happy with being handed a baby. And that’s how I feel.
I hated being pregnant. I hated no longer fitting into my clothes – yes I know ok. I know. I hated the fact that my body was changing and that I had no control over it. That my boobs were so sensitive, that just drying them after a shower made my eyes well up. I hate the stretch marks that have forever scarred my tummy. And seriously, if 1 more person sends me a picture or an e-mail with the following “You’re a goddamn tiger who’s earned her stripes!” I’m going to smack them in their face. With a brick. Covered in steak knives. My body is forever changed, in a negative way. Now, do not take this as me not wanting my daughter. My daughter is my life. I just hated the fact that it took 8.5 months of incubation, which ruined my body to get her. I also hated the fact, that for the last 3 months of my pregnancy, my daughter was on a nerve that was directly connected to my groin, effectively leaving me in pain for 3 months. I can’t describe the pain, but I couldn’t move in bed without it hurting. I couldn’t get in and out of the bath without it hurting. That relief I felt, once the epidural had worn off, of NO MORE GROIN PAIN was just the best feeling in the world! And then someone told me that I was not allowed to dye my hair throughout my pregnancy, as the toxic chemicals would harm my unborn child! I have been dying my hair since I was 15. If I was not already brain damaged, then I doubt that it would do anything to my child. But I believed this story, and didn’t dye my hair out of fear. But it got to a point where I just couldn’t take it anymore, and at about 6.5-7 months of pregnancy, I dyed my hair. Hey! My daughter is perfectly fine. Dumbass rumours.
I hated the fact that I was now deemed ‘fragile’. “You are with child; take it easy.” “Don’t lift that box; you’re with child!” I almost had to stop driving; my belly was pressed against my steering wheel, so if I happened to be in an accident, it may have turned out bad. But I drove until the day before my daughter was born, and hey, nothing happened. That was 1 level of my independence that I refused to give up. Even after my C-section, I drove after 2 weeks and 4 days, instead of waiting the required 6 weeks (shhh). But yes, it hurt. I must admit that I took it easier after that 😉 I was lucky in that my daughter left my ribs and spine alone; I know a few ladies whose babies really abused their insides! I hated the fact that I couldn’t see my vajayjay (if you watch Grey’s Anatomy, you’ll know exactly what this word is. It’s also mentioned in What to Expect When You’re Expecting.) I hated the fact that I couldn’t cut my own damn toe nails! I hated the fact that I walked like I had not 1, not 2, but a whole bunch of carrots permanently wedged up my bum. I have always suffered from heartburn, but nothing, and I mean NOTHING compares to pregnancy heartburn. My chest felt like it was permanently on fire; I was drinking Gaviscon like energy juice, and I was forever burping. And farting. I never wet myself though. Ok, not that much… Oh, and keep that damn camera away from me! That is if you want it to remain in 1 piece! I also remember wanting to put up my daughter’s wooden cot, and having a mini (major) melt-down because I just couldn’t do it! This THING called my expanding belly kept getting in the way!! Frustrated was an understatement of note! I am a very capable person; I can change a car tyre, I can check the oil and water in my car, I can change a plug on an appliance, but I could not for the life of me put up this damn cot – ARGH!!!
And as for the weight gain?! Almost 4 years down the line, I still have my pregnancy weight. And yes, I have tried, and almost succeeded in losing it, but thanks to my ‘tiger stripes’ (say NOTHING) it doesn’t make much difference. Skin. I have never hated skin as much as what I do now. And as for breastfeeding?! I am so very glad that so many moms found it a breeze, and that they loved it, and could feel the instant bond. Me? Not so much. I hated every single second of it. Even in the privacy of my own bedroom, just my daughter and me, I always felt uncomfortable. And don’t underestimate a new-born. Their sucking reflex works just fine – well my new-born’s certainly did!
Do I want another child? Yes, with all of my heart. Do I want to experience pregnancy again – HELL NO! Do I have a choice in the matter? Well no, because I want this child to be from my husband and me. But no, I do not relish the fact of yet another 9 months of an alien infestation taking over my body.
For those moms and moms to be and moms who can’t fall pregnant; I am grateful for my daughter. Yes, pregnancy is a miracle. My body just didn’t appreciate the miracle that much 🙂 I hated being pregnant. My mom on the other hand, loved being pregnant. All 3 times. Ugh. People like that. Ugh. Nothing against you, but ugh. (love you ma ;))
No, I never felt ‘the glow’ of pregnancy, and those pregnancy and ‘What to Expect When You’re Expecting’ books don’t cover half of what they should. Like how to deal with a 3 year old who has pooped herself, and is now standing in your doorway, with IT smeared all over herself. Or how to co-sleep with a 3 year old who has her own bed, but prefers sleeping with mommy and daddy, and then takes up the whole bed. I’m still trying to decide what’s more uncomfortable; my couch or my bed.
Pregnancy is a miracle. The miracle of life. It’s also the miracle of excessive burping and farting, mixed lovingly (or torturously as I like to think) with cankles and weight gain, and of course a sprinkling (or in my case a truck load) of heartburn.
And yes, it was all worth it 🙂