As I’m rolling
– literally – through my last six weeks of pregnancy, I find
myself thinking back to all of the joys and occasional miseries of
being a lady in waiting.
As I’m rolling – literally – through my last six weeks of pregnancy, I find myself thinking back to all of the joys and occasional miseries of being a lady in waiting.
There are the moments of pure bliss, like listening to our little one’s heartbeat for the first time, and the not so blissful moments spent fleeing from the gosh-awful smell emitting from the kitchen.
It’s been a strange but wonderful nearly nine months of wonder, anticipation and excitement.
That said, there are a few things that I won’t miss about being pregnant, like trying to maneuver my ever-expanding belly. I bumped into my husband, Chris – or rather my tummy did – last night in our kitchen and I didn’t even realize it. I told him it was like driving a van for the very first time and not knowing how much room you need so you don’t bump into all the other cars.
Then there are the hormones. That’s a whole other column – or book – it and of itself. But I’ll try to give you a brief version of what I’m referring to.
In the beginning, they multiply and take over, plotting ways to make you feel yucky. There’s the nausea-I-can’t-get-out-of-bed hormone, the if-I-smell-meat-cooking-I’m-gonna-puke hormone, the gag-reflex hormone and – my personal unfavorite – if-I-watch-all-of-you-eating-for-another-second-I’m-gonna-be-sick hormone.
Some say these little guys just offer the mom a natural way to keep potentially bad things at bay. Luckily, they packed up and found another soul to bother around the 14th week. But about 10 weeks later, their cousins, moodiness and touchiness, set up camp.
“Don’t forget impatience and irritated,” Chris helpfully reminded me earlier this week.
“Alright, honey, no need to get nasty,” I shot back.
He is right, although I would never tell him that. However, I think preoccupied and anticipatory are more fitting descriptions of my emotional state. Unless he does something that really bugs me, like changing the channel on the TV incorrectly.
I also won’t miss waking up in the middle of the night for a sundry of reasons: my calves cramping up, bathroom breaks, backaches, and other fun interruptions. In a matter of weeks, I’ll have a much better reason to be awoken in the middle of the night: a crying baby in need of a cuddle.
I also look forward to being able to bend over with ease, fit into shoes other than my standard sensible pair and my tennies, and stop being a slave to my taste buds.
The latter I feel a bit torn about. On one hand, I will miss being able to eat virtually whatever I want as I try to whittle my body back to its pre-pregnancy state. On the other, I will no longer turn my refrigerator upside down looking for the Reese’s peanut butter cups I “hid” from myself.
But, truthfully, I think there are more things I will miss about being pregnant than not. I love feeling our baby move around, trying to get comfy in her temporary home. I imagine her curled up sleeping, and I try to glimpse all of the wonderful things she has in store for us.
I will miss cradling my belly while talking to her about her mommy and daddy, her dog Lucy, who will (hopefully) someday be her best friend, and her new room. I will miss watching Chris feel her move, the look of amazement and love in his eyes as his hand senses her kicking foot or waving fist.
I will miss the delicious anticipation of waiting for our first child to be born. All of the planning, the learning and the dreaming will culminate at her moment of birth.
I cannot imagine when the hour is finally upon us when we will be able to hold our little one and say, “So, you’re the one who’s kept us awake at night. You’re the one who we felt move around. You’re the one we’ve been talking to and loving and dreaming about. Welcome to the world.”
But I do know that the past nine months will pale in comparison to that glorious moment and all of the ones that follow. I have much to miss but even more to look forward to.
