A friend very recently asked me to recount some of my pregnancy memories as part of a post-grad project she's working on, and as I condensed the story into a few sentences I realized how much I'm already beginning to forget. Scoops is not even 4 months old yet, but pregnancy feels like it was a lifetime ago. I knew motherhood would change me, but I also knew I wouldn't fully comprehend that change until it had already happened. Giving birth was a true rite of passage, and now that I'm on the other side, I look back fondly at my pregnancy and all I experienced. So here, in a nutshell, are the most memorable moments of my pregnancy:
I remember feeling literally dizzy with excitement when I found out I was pregnant. It was a Sunday morning, and I was frustrated with my period for being late again, so I stumbled to the bathroom to pee on a stick. In my half-asleep state, I suddenly realized mid-stream what I was doing, and the potential significance of the situation immediately woke me up completely. I was so ready to be pregnant, I just didn't believe I was. I thought it would take so much more time and effort. So when two little blue lines cheerfully appeared, I was floored. And elated! I laughed, I cried, and I definitely felt dizzy.
I remember the awful, horrible nausea of my first trimester. Ginger made it worse, Preggie Pop Drops made it better, until they didn't and made it worse. Then I found hot tea, of almost any variety, was a good fix, until it wasn't. I spent a whole beautiful sunny Saturday indoors with the blinds all shut, crying my eyes out and forcing myself to nibble on strawberry flavored coconut milk ice cream (God bless Trader Joe's!) because it was the only thing that didn't make me want to hurl (I did eventually add white rice doused in soy sauce to my diet). I remember finally giving in to taking anti-nausea meds, and crying because "If I can't handle the nausea how will I handle labor??"
I remember feeling more beautiful than I ever had in my life, and I only felt more beautiful as my belly got bigger. I was the easiest time I've ever had accepting compliments. People told me I was glowing, and I actually saw the glow they were talking about. Plus, my skin completely cleared up (except for one "bad" bout of pregnancy acne in the very middle of my pregnancy), so that was undeniably a major self-esteem boost.
I remember waiting to feel "over it" and ready to rip the baby out myself like everyone swore I would, but when I finally did feel that way at almost 9 months in, it only lasted about 10 minutes before I was content again. I truly enjoyed being pregnant, feeling so close to my unborn child, and especially knowing that my baby was the safest she'd ever be while she was in my belly.
I remember worrying about my back giving out and not being able to labor and give birth naturally and without medication. I've suffered from chronic back pain and spasms since I was a teenager, so this was a very real fear, as a spasm was a very real possibility for me. Ultimately I had to practice mindfulness and constantly remind myself not to obsess over what might happen in the future. In the end, I had a terrible spasm the week before I went into labor, and spent the entire week resting in bed. Obviously I didn't know it was THE week before I was going into labor, because I was still a little less than 2 weeks away from my due date, but the point is I had the terrible spasm before labor, not during.
I remember feeling totally unprepared when I did go into labor, immediately after my back had finally healed from that week-long spasm. I remember crying, in fact, about how not ready the nursery and house were. The house was an absolute filthy mess because I'd been unable to clean for a week (but let's be real, it had been well over a week since I'd cleaned the place). The nursery had a crib, and a dresser with a changing pad set up, and that was about it. All the artwork I'd wanted to hang still sat on the floor, many of the gifts I'd been given hadn't been put away, and certainly nothing was organized. I had even started a big 4 foot square painting that was nowhere near close to finished (it still isn't). #nestingfail. Interestingly, however, I didn't cry because I felt unprepared for labor itself, just because I felt like my home wasn't ready to receive my new baby.
I remember feeling so grateful that my husband and I took birthing classes, because he was the best coach I could have asked for, and made my entire 33+ hour labor bearable. Aside from one faux pas (he ran over to the neighbors' house to give them a spare key so they could feed the dog while we were at the hospital, and snuck a couple garlic cheese balls while he was there -- I nearly vomited on him when he came back), he was by my side the entire time, even when he napped while my mom took over to give him a break. He said all the right things, massaged my back and hips, kept me hydrated, timed every contraction, and stayed in constant contact with our doula and family. He was so confident in his role as my coach, and I trusted him completely to help me get through the most difficult task I'd ever faced.
I remember the moment my daughter emerged from my body; how surprisingly quickly she was placed on my chest; how I was confused by my lack of immediate familiarity with that tiny, wriggly stranger, but how compelled I felt to cover her tiny moist face in kisses anyway. (I remember thinking for half a second "Is it weird that I want to kiss her even though she's still covered in body fluids?" But then immediately realized, "Nope, no it's not.") I truly was surprised that I didn't instantly "know" her. I thought after 9 months of talking to her, singing to her, dreaming about her, and waiting for her arrival that I would feel instant recognition when I finally held her. But when she made her appearance on that Sunday morning (ironic, huh?), I felt instead that I needed to instantly learn who she was! (Turns out, that's not a bad challenge to undertake.)
It's a little bittersweet to reduce my entire pregnancy into a few short paragraphs. At the time, it was absolutely the most important thing I'd ever done with my life, but I knew that it would pale in comparison to motherhood. I was pregnant last Mother's Day, and while some people asked me whether I was celebrating and some informed me that I ought to, I maintained that it was a practice round. I didn't fully feel like a mother yet because I wasn't one yet. Pregnancy is to labor is to parenthood what an engagement is to a wedding is to marriage. I honestly enjoyed every moment of my pregnancy (except for those 10 minutes near the end when I actually felt "over it"), and now that I've crossed the bridge into motherhood, I don't want to forget the important but relatively brief events that brought me here. I will never again be pregnant for the first time, and I hope I never forget what that felt like.
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