Yes, my friends. I am with child. EW. That sounds gross. But I also do not care for the word “pregnant” or “prego” or the worst offender, “preggers”. I’d rather just say I am growing a baby or something more matter-of-factual.
And really, I do not expect you to care. When I hit 25, people’s babies starting popping up like spring tulips alllll over my socials and while my official sentiments were always something along the lines of “Congrats! What a cutie!”, inside I was like:
And also. Before you say “well that was quick”, like my sister Megan lovingly pointed out upon us telling her…Yeah! It was really quick. We were trying, but not for that long. I am about 3 months into this thing and as per usual, I plan to tell you allll about it.
But first, a disclaimer. Or rather, several disclaimers.
- I will not be over-sharing.
There will be absolutely no TMI anywhere near this blog. If you want that kindof thing, there is a lady on YouTube who filmed herself having her baby IN A CREEK. So go watch that. I did.
2. I will be speaking my truth.
98% of being with child, having the thing and being it’s mom genuinely freaks me out and not in a good way. I have decently high generalized anxiety and I plan to talk about it. I am overwhelmingly excited and happy to share love with this person, but if you are expecting a glowing, healthy-eating mother-to-be, wearing floral crowns and getting maternity pictures taken at sunset than BYE.
3. I mean no offense.
I am well versed in the mommy-shaming that goes on everywhere, all the time. I am aware that MY opinions on the subjects I may or may not decide to write about may evoke certain feelings or thoughts in others. Please know that I mean no harm, no offense, am always happy to learn and am just doing my best here guys.
So now, onto the things.
As previously stated, I have about 6 more months until this thing makes it’s grand entrance in to the world. The logistics so far have been fine. We have seen and heard a heartbeat, talked about vitamins and I had a blood draw (where I nearly passed out). I am seeing a midwife and she is wonderful. This worked out well, because my therapist recommended I use both a midwife and a doula to try and help with anxiety. Which leads me to….
MY MENTAL STATE
After I took the two initial tests to confirm the state I thought I might be in, I was SHOCKED. See pictures for proof:
Due to my age, my sister’s difficulty in conceiving and just my dumb luck I just thought it would take me a while to conceive. Not the case. Since then, I have continued to exist in almost an out-of-body state. This whole thing has not come easy or natural to me. The app I downloaded to compare the baby to a piece of fruit each week had to be deleted. I just couldn’t look. The book my doctor gave me to read? Still sitting on the kitchen table where it will never be touched. I divert my eyes when I spot pregnant women on the street or see a “hospital bag must-haves!” post on Pinterest. I feel paralyzed. I don’t wanna know. My anxiety has flared up harder than a tiki torch. But luckily, I have David to lean on. I truly do not know where I would be without him. I also have my family, friends, MEIRA, medication, and weekly sessions with my therapist.
THINGS THAT HAVE SUCKED
Nausea. I started wearing Sea Bands from the get-go and whether or not it is a placebo effect…I just don’t care. I started feeling a teensy bit better when I wore them so suck it. I now have three pairs of them in both black and gray. Plus by wearing them I am always only a pair of spandex away from sweatin’ to the oldies!
My sense of smell. The lady 2 blocks away wearing one too many sprays of Shalimar…I can smell you. The 22-year-old bike courier with taco pits who just stepped off the elevator…I can smell you. Co-worker who had an onion bagel for breakfast – yesterday….I can smell you. I should really go down to the Portland Police and offer my services to sniff out drugs because… I CAN SMELL YOU.
Impatience. As of late, I do not have time for anyone or anything. Lady on the train blocking everyone from an aisle with several available seats with her giant Ikea bag filled with cat food – I DO NOT HAVE TIME FOR YOU. Computer monitor at work that keeps flashing “cannot detect display port”, I do not have time for you! Even my own mother, telling me a story about her next door neighbor’s daughters graduation party where they rented an entire taco truck! Mom, love you. I don’t have time for you.
Acne. Not only is my forehead decorated with lovely bumps, but my skin type has also completely changed. My skin is noticeably more oily and don’t get me started on my hair. I used to be able to go 4 days between hair washings and now I am lucky to make it to every other day. I can srsly empty a can of dry shampoo in my hair and it makes no difference.
Bone Pain. My bones they are a shiftin’. Man that grosses me out. My tail bone as well as hip bones are just in a constant state of ouch. I feel like my body is being rearranged and I have no say in the matter.
I could go on and on guys. Food aversions, drippy nose, FATIGUE! You name it, I’ve got it going on. The other night, David and I planned to actually GO OUT FOR DINNER together, a rarity given all the aforementioned inflictions. I got ALL READY and then a big ol’ wave of nausea just swept over me and we had to abandon ship. I had to take off freshly applied makeup! FRESHLY. applied. Of course I first snapped a photo.
So that’s where we are. Complaining, being impatient and eating a pack of Strawberry Sour Punch Straws a day. Let’s do this thing.