I have about eight weeks left until my due date with my second biological child. In reality, I probably have about five weeks until my daughter is born based on my history and the fact that I’ve already been to the hospital once with early contractions. In either case, she will be here before I know it and it seems like just yesterday I was sitting in a train station bathroom in downtown Chicago saying “oh my…” at the positive sign on my pregnancy test (it’s a good story). But I can’t help but think of what I’ll miss about being pregnant.
|32 weeks and counting|
I’ve still got some time left though. And already I feel like I am the size of a small tool shed with back pains that rival actual labor on any given day. I apologize constantly to my husband for being “huge” and walk around like someone who needs a double hip replacement. I’m bringing sexy back in big ways. These are some non examples of what I’ll miss about being pregnant, believe me.
If you know me, you probably think I’m exaggerating. Sans child in the belly I sort of go non-stop. In fact, during my first pregnancy nearly five years ago I worked two jobs, one that required me to be on my feet for six or seven hours at a time. Maybe I felt huge? Maybe my back hurt? I don’t really remember that though. My recollection (which could be completely warped at this point) is that it was an easy, breezy pregnancy where I pushed even harder in my life than I did before I was expecting.
Well, that was then. This is now. I’m married with a three-year-old full time and two other little ones 3 – 4 days per week. I work at home. I love to run but sort of lost enthusiasm to do so during this pregnancy when I battled some mind blowing morning sickness from about week 7 – week 14. I couldn’t quite get back on track and now I’m officially banned from doing it due to those pesky early contractions I mentioned above. Zumba hurts my ankles. Walking feels good and I do it every chance I get — which is not saying much.
My point is that most of the time, I’m not enjoying being pregnant at this point. And that makes me feel bad. I SHOULD be thankful every moment of every day for this miracle of life within me and be counting myself lucky to be given this opportunity to experience the amazing transformation of my body again. I have to push myself to feel this way though and remind myself that this is a very small window of time in my life. Once she is out of my body, what I’ll miss about being pregnant is all this time.
So I decided to start taking note of what I’ll miss about being pregnant — even the small blessings that make such a difference in my life. So when I look back in another five years, I can remember my pregnancy with nothing but happiness and thankfulness for the experience.
What I’ll Miss About Being Pregnant
A few of the things of what I’ll miss about being pregnant are…
The humanity. People are just nicer to you when you are pregnant. They hold doors, smile, put groceries in your car and genuinely seem to be happy for you. I realize that these strangers are not actually extending this humanity on my behalf but hey, I’ll take it.
My belly. Okay, so I do not actually like being the size of a midsized family sedan, but despite this, I love my pregnant belly. I love the roundness, the firmness, the fact that I can feel ripples of my little girl just below the surface of my skin. Like most women, I find my hand lands on my belly every few seconds. I am reassured when my little girl answers back with a stretch or swift kick to the ribs.
Sharing something new with my husband. This is my husband’s second marriage and he already had two kids when I met him. I already had one. We had both “done” a lot of things before we met each other and tied the knot. So even though neither of us is new to this pregnancy thing, this particular pregnancy is ours. It is something that we have been able to share in a way that only the two of us can. Of course this sharing won’t end after delivery, but experiencing all of the new emotions I have for my husband as a father has taken my breath away at times and I don’t ever want to forget discovering that feeling.
The safety I provide her. Once my daughter leaves my womb, I lose some control over her. Heck, I lose all control basically. I know it’s a completely false sense of security, but I somehow feel that having her with me all the time — having her inside of my body — protects her from all danger and harm. She can’t hit her head on the coffee table. She can’t get bit by a rabid squirrel. She can’t eat chalk or swallow household cleaners. She can’t wander out the front door and take a stroll down the sidewalk when I’m in the bathroom. She is stuck with me, no matter where I go or what I do, and I have nearly thirty years of worldly experience on her.
The glow. I’ve always had issues with my skin, from acne to eczema. Moving to Florida has certainly helped these problems but I still battle them on a daily basis. Both of my pregnancies have given me some relief from these issues and replaced them with that “glow” that everyone talks about. I suppose I can credit some of it to the mega vitamins I’m taking but I know that most of it is the surge of hormones and blood flow giving my skin a boost.
Having her “to myself.” There will be times that she and I will be alone. Not many. But there will be times. Not like now though. She’s safely stowed away in my little pouch as I take a shower, walk to check the mail or lie in my bed at night contemplating sleep or just enjoying a few awake moments in silence. She’s my baby right now. Soon, she will belong to everyone else too. I asked my husband the other day if he is ever jealous of me because I get to carry the baby and he does not. In classic husband style, he replied “Honestly? Not at all.” And that is just fine with me.
The anticipation. It is sort of like the kid-at-Christmas syndrome, except with a human child instead of that creepy doll that wets diapers and sucks its thumb. You wait for nine, nearly ten, months for this gift. If you count the time that you have spent in your life daydreaming about the baby in advance, you may have been waiting literal years for the arrival. The difference, of course, is that there is no “day after Christmas” let down. With my first daughter, I found that the wonderful reality far outweighed any fantasy I had in advance. It’s fun to speculate though — about hair color, eye color, what she will like to do, what her first word will be, if she will have curly hair like daddy, if she will be a good sleeper like her sisters or an insomniac like her brother and father, and if there is any possible way she will be able to avoid becoming a writer considering her gene pool. There is something that is therapeutic and good for the imagination when a family is waiting for a child to arrive. Even though the real deal wins out, I’ll miss the wonder of the wait.
What I’ll miss about being pregnant may not be the same as what you’ll miss; what’s on your list?
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