Pregnancy. The period from conception to birth when a woman carries a developing fetus in her uterus. The definition is pretty cut and dry. But what they fail to describe are all the “wonderful” things that happen to the woman who decides to endure this 9 month journey…
Having given birth to two children has given me a new respect for my body and for motherhood. Of course, I was elated to find out I was pregnant both times. But the first time around I wasn’t prepared for the “transformation” that my body and my mental health endured. First of all, I thought I had a pretty strong stomach. I used to watch medical surgery shows on the Discovery Channel with all the blood and stitches and it didn’t phase me. Morning sickness is another thing. The first time I experienced morning sickness I was in a Fry’s grocery store and came across the Bratwurst in the meat section. I started feeling woozy. The albino colored weenies made my stomach turn. And then…I witnessed a moth flutter on to a piece of wood nearby. All I started to think about was the Bratwurst mixed with the moth and I tossed my cookies. I know, I know… weird combination, but it was the perfect one for heaving. As soon as I passed that first trimester I thought it would be smooth sailing from that point on. Boy was I wrong.
My 2nd trimester was the beginning of the real body transformation. My stomach started to fill out and my boobs did, too. I didn’t really mind the bulging tummy as much as I did my “National-Geographic-Third-World- Nation” boobies. All I needed was a bone through my nose and a spear and I would fit right in. The “twins” would just hang there in all their glory with nipples that spread out from one side to the other. Disgusting until… I put a bra on. Sheer delight! I had stripper boobs! The lifesaving bra hoisted those suckers up and made me look like I just swung off a pole on stage. (I probably could’ve moonlighted as an “entertainer” but I think the whole pregnancy thing would’ve been an issue, you think?) Then comes the heartburn…. UGH. Imagine someone ripping open your ribcage and pouring hot, bubbling acid over your heart and lungs. That’s how it feels. The bubbling pain oozing up into your throat-morning,
The last trimester is when you just want things to be over with. You starting cussing like a sailor and you whine about every ache and twinge. Your stomach looks like a road map with all the stretch marks. You feel like Sasquatch when you finally get to witness your feet. You no longer have ankles. Your ankles slowly melt into your calves until they become“Cankles”. You start to ache in the nether regions… It starts to feel like Jackie Chan just busted some Tae kwon Do moves on your crotch. The mental breakdown begins during this trimester. You cry about anything and everything. I would cry when the mailman wasn’t on time or if my hair didn’t stay in my ponytail the right way. I was addicted to The Learning Channel series, “A Baby Story” which followed the lives of women about to give birth. I constantly called Charlie crying every time a woman squeezed one out. He was close to calling the looney bin when he came home late one night and saw me waddling around in the garage with my blow-dryer. I hated the garage so it was a shock to see me standing next to my SUV with blow-dryer in hand. I told him that while I was lying in bed I realized how much I hated the pin striping on my car and wanted it off….IMMEDIATELY. He didn’t argue. He let me be. I think that was the safest thing for him to do.
As I look back now, my labor and delivery was pretty easy with both births (4 hours each). The only thing I was worried about the whole time I was in labor was how un-manicured my crotchmust look! There was a whole audience of nurses and doctors. I was about to give life to another human being and the only thing that ran through my mind was how much I probably looked like Chewbacca down there and how I should’ve given my bikini line one last wax.
All that went out the window when I saw the jellied-face smile of my baby….
Giving birth was the most miraculous thing that I have ever done. It ranks as #1 on my list of “Fantastic Things I Have Done With My Life With No Regrets.” To have someone love you and depend on you unconditionally is indescribable. I always tell my friends that I never believed in love at first sight until I had my children. I mean, how could you love someone you never even met? My kids have proven that theory wrong. Twice in my life now I had the opportunity to assist God in the making of a miracle…how much better can it get?
I am so truly blessed J
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