There have been many life-changing moments in my journey, but the most recent has been the biggest one of all. Two blue lines on a pregnancy test, when we were four months away from our first wedding anniversary was that moment for us. It was followed by a loud gasp and my husband running into the bathroom to see me in tears (of joy? panic? fear? all of the above?) and then another trip to the grocery store to get five more tests to make sure the first one wasn't defective.
The last three and a half months have been a huge roller coaster ride. I wouldn't have ever thought pregnancy would be this difficult. I always thought that the end - the birthing part - that would be the hardest. I'm not there yet, and I know from watching endless YouTube videos, reading book after book, and listening to my sister and other mothers share their experiences, that giving birth will still probably be the hardest part. I just never thought of all the things, the emotions, the morning sickness (that is actually all day and all night sickness), the exhaustion, all of the decisions, and the worry that comes with pregnancy to be as tough as it is.
For the first three months of my pregnancy I had my head buried in a toilet, listening to my husband make up new songs about puking and reaching for my toothbrush for the ninth time that day. I forced myself to go to work, knowing that women before me have had it just as bad, if not worse, and survived. Women are warriors, I'm so impressed by some of the stories I've heard of women coming up with ways to deal with these issues while they were pregnant. The thought of these other women spurred me on to drive to work while losing my breakfast into anything that could be replaced or washed. Thankfully, having a job as a nanny means that there is always nap time. Before I got pregnant, whenever nap time came, I would be doing dishes, vacuuming, and cleaning up the messes that were made that day. I'm sure that my employer misses those days, since nap time has now become the time for me to pass out in a rocking chair and drool until I hear a baby crying.
On top of the sickness and the frequent napping, the emotions come out of nowhere, hitting you square between the eyes, making you doubt everything about yourself. You have absolutely no dignity left when you find yourself crying because you are so happy that Cinderella finally became a princess. I would've torn apart the person that I have become, told her to grow up and stop being such a wimp.
I feel like the least qualified person on the planet to be carrying this baby (well, maybe a man wouldn't be a very good candidate either). I've fallen in the shower, tripped over stairs, spilled nearly everything I've touched...and yet somehow, there is still a strong heartbeat inside of me, reminding me what all this is for. Then there are the moments, the very few so far, where all of the sudden, I feel flutters in my stomach. The baby is moving, showing me that they are alive and growing, and that my belly isn't getting larger for no reason. Through all of this, I smile. I can't wait to meet you, little one. I can't wait to hold you and teach you everything about walking, talking, school, friends, sports, marriage, God's grace, and give you plenty of dysfunction that you can blame me for in later years. I love you already. Keep making me tired, emotional, sick, and fat. You're already worth it.
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