lessons learned through the trimesters.
It’s true. I’m tired of being pregnant. Perhaps you can see it, etched across the browns of my eyes, or wrapping itself around my tired body. There’s nothing wrong with admitting it. I’m still only 33 weeks, with many more weeks to go, but I’m feeling that tiredness creep into my bones.
However, being in this place has it’s benefits. There’s a raw, honest connection to the world that I haven’t felt before. When there’s two of you walking, waiting, eating, sleeping, you feel a deepening that in your own sacred space.
I can’t quite shake the feeling of how holy pregnancy is. The anticipation builds each day. One moment you’re carrying a child for 9 months, and the next moment, she is born into the world, covered in the hands of loved ones, open to the wind and rain. Her cheeks get rosy, her nose runs. She laughs and cries, she needs to be fed mother’s milk. I know that moment will come, so soon, and I feel it will run by before I’ve had time to catch her in my embrace.
I’ve learned that being “prepared” can actually make the journey of pregnancy more difficult. I had stacks of books ready to read, many were skimmed through before conception. But once the pregnancy was official, nothing mattered. Women all over the world don’t have access to pregnancy books, so they don’t read them. They eat warming foods, and feed their bodies what they need. They are not on a nutritional plan.
I felt so overwhelmed by the stress of carrying a baby, I often didn’t enjoy it. I felt like I had to do everything right, and nothing wrong. There were times when I was really sick that I would cry on Jay’s shoulder, “I don’t know if baby is getting enough veggies! I can’t do this. I can’t eat greens!” Literally, I would cry with worry. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve cried such good and fat tears and then stopped abruptly for fear of throwing up. Nothing comes easy in this pregnancy, not even a good cry!
By this point, I still had trouble mastering the art of eating food. Veggies, particularly greens were almost non existent in my diet for a few weeks. But I could eat carrots, I could drink carrots. I’m surprised my eyes didn’t turn orange. I juiced as much as I could, trying to get vegetables in my system. I couldn’t eat meat. I didn’t want pasta.
What the heck did I eat? I think I survived on toast, spoonfuls of peanut butter, apples, oranges, carrots, water, yogurt, cereal, milk.
I also had the joy of experiencing the worst back pain, hip pain, joint pain in my LIFE. And I have had bad back pain. My SI joint nearly ruined me. I don’t think I’ve experienced body pain like this before; I’m pretty sure I’d remember it. I guess this is just one of the many curveballs that pregnancy can throw at you. My friend is also suffering from this type of pain at the minute too, (but not because she’s pregnant), and she’s started to look into buying CBD oil in the UK as that is where she’s located to see if this can make a difference, as she’s heard it can. It sounds like a good idea, but I think it’s better if I look for alternative options during my pregnancy. I had to do something though, as it’s really affecting my life. There were a few weeks where I could barely walk. In fact, I couldn’t walk, but we all know a pregnant woman crawling is a sad, sad thing. After a few treatments from my chiropractor, my life was changed. I no longer huffed and puffed and blew the house apart by simply rolling over in bed, or taking a small step. What freedom. I’m sure labour “rushes” are intense (can’t say pains people, I am one of those), but I do hope my excruciating three week training period helped.
I learned that all expectations have to be tossed out the window and one simply has to sail through this mysterious trimester. All the pregnancy books made me feel awful, so I resent them.
Though there is still over five weeks left in this trimester, I am feeling better. I only threw up once! And that had to do with my old pill prenatals. I’m loving my liquid prenatals, even though they sometimes taste like blood. I am also in love with oranges. Clementines, navels, mandarins—I eat at least three a day. Milk is my saving grace. Cold non fat milk can soothe my tummy like a good salve. Normally I never touched the stuff. If I did drink milk, it would be whole milk, or rather, almond milk was my go to creamy beverage. Of course whole milk and me don’t mix anymore. I would weigh 800 lbs if I still drank it, seeing as I can go through a 4 litre jug of milk in less than a week. Even though I don’t like them, protein bars really, really help my raging hunger. Some days I am grief stricken by how much food I need to eat. This is coming from a girl who could survive on a piece of toast until well past lunch time. Even as a little girl, my mum would say, “You eat like a mouse!” I would give her a glare and wrap my legs around the chair legs, “No-aaah. I don’t.”
Tell that to my midwife, that one that makes me cry. Last week at my prenatal visit, I knew she would comment on my 5lb weight gain since the last visit. She did. And I felt that quiver hit my lips, and the rims of my eyelids buckled under the weight of wet tears.
“I. Can’t. Help. It (you witch!) Even when I was sick, I was gaining weight (you jerk!) So, SO, what am I supposed to do?” I can’t get mad these days, because I’ll just end up in tears, but my old feistiness was creeping its way back. I did not call her names, but I thought those things. I gave her the stink eye as she palpated my belly with a little smirk on her face.
“Listen. I weighed 9.9lbs when I was born, and Jay was close to that weight as well. (You have four eyes!) Do you think I could be growing a big baby, and maybe that’s why I’m gaining?” I huffed.
“Well, yes. As a matter of fact, that can play into it. I’ll make a note not to bother you about it next visit.”
Fifteen minutes later, in front of the whole pregnancy group (my visits are followed by a prenatal class with others mums due in March), she looks at me, ready to finish her point on something or other and says, “See, Michaela is going to have a big baby, because she has big babies in her genes! She can’t help it!”
Oh gosh, I want to punch that woman and hug her all at the same time, because I love all midwives, even when they lecture me.
I’ve learned that when people ask when I’m due I should say tomorrow, just to avoid the awkward “Oh My’s”. They are more than satisfied with that answer. “Well, I was gonna say, you sure look ready to pop tomorrow!”
I wish deary, I wish.