The first few weeks after our positive test I remember walking around with this secret, this special feeling of companionship knowing that I was now housing another precious little life. Despite what many believe about life and the miracle of conception there is a sense I experienced of just "knowing" that you are no longer alone. You can't feel baby there and honestly, for a few weeks there are no signs or symptoms but somehow I just knew.
It was confirmed pretty quickly from our first Dr's appointment when you pee in a cup and everything is official. They gave me loads of advice about what not to eat, what to eat, and a prescription for a HUGE bottle of prenatal vitamins. I had to laugh a little because we waited to have kids until 4+ years in our marriage and I was 32... not exactly young or inexperienced, so though we had never had a baby before and I had never been pregnant before the advice the Dr's give early on seemed so silly. The Dr actually told me it was still safe to shower and take baths normally? I think I just nodded my head. Of course it was. Had someone actually asked them if it was ok to shower? I guess enough young women had that it was covered in the first appointment!
As relieved as I was about being able to bathe normally for the duration of my pregnancy it wasn't long before I began to feel the other more physical sign of motherhood: sick.
Sick. As. A. Dog.
I have always joked, not really joking, that I would rather be cut open and have stitches then ever be sick to my stomach. I hate it. Really, really hate it. Having the stomach flu once, for almost 2 weeks, when I was 10 over Christmas break is a searing memory, one of the worst from my childhood. I was so sick I was never far from a bucket or my bed. I still will not eat the food I initially got sick on when I came down with that bug - Cinnamon Toast Crunch. Nope. Even now the sight of the box turns me a little green. So morning sickness was something I had feared and dreaded and hoped and prayed that somehow I would skip this stage.
Unfortunately not. I got sick and I stayed sick. It wasn't morning sickness, it was all day sickness. It was "call into work, can't get out of bed, use up all my sick leave" - sick. Beyond just the horrible nausea and vomiting were the food aversions and smells - every little smell grossed me out and sent me running for the bathroom. Normal things like my toothpaste and shampoo smelled SO bad that I had to look for another brand. Foods I loved were now intolerable to me and I became a very, very picky eater - nothing set well and even less stayed down.
At one point I was not keeping any fluids down or my meds and my OBGYN sent me to the hospital for dehydration. It was the sickest I have ever been.
And I am ashamed to say I felt very sorry for myself. I was so sick and so miserable and so nauseous that I couldn't think of anything else. I remember thinking: how do people with chronic pain or illness endure this? I mean, to be very honest, I think the only thing that kept me somewhat sane was that it was a temporary condition. If I knew I had to LIVE like this for the rest of my life? Well, again, I am ashamed to find that I don't think I would be strong enough or brave enough for that. I actually became quite depressed and nothing seemed to lift my mood. I just couldn't think about anything else except how sick I was.
So I was a mess. A whining, complaining, unpleasant mess. Diego was so very kind and patient with me. He ate by himself for almost 2 months as the smell of food and the sight of food made me sick. He did all the grocery shopping, all the cooking, and even ate in our dining room alone for weeks and weeks. He was a constant encouragement and a rock to me at my lowest and most depressed.
On our way to Orlando, Florida to celebrate our 4th Anniversary (October 15th) he finally had a heart to heart with me about my mood and my complaining. It was a very brave thing to do and I will never forget that conversation. It's more about how he handled it than exactly what he said. He reminded me that God had given us this gift, a gift of a child that many long and pray for and then wait and wait. He reminded me that God was good even in suffering and that everything He allows in our life is for some greater, larger purpose. He was honest with me but he was so kind.
I wish I could say that I took his words to heart and had a complete change of attitude overnight but that wasn't the case. I would continue to feel wretchedly sick, even on meds though they helped a lot, until Thanksgiving. I so wish I could go back over and do the 1st Trimester differently. Be more grateful. Be more patient with myself and the pregnancy process.
Do you ever just want SO badly to be good at something? To have it come naturally? I was confident for some reason prior to pregnancy that I would be "good" at being pregnant - I mean I really loved kids and I was a healthy young woman - why wouldn't this be easy for me? I have found nothing more humbling in all of my 33 years as that 1st Trimester of pregnancy. It was a brutal reminder that this motherhood journey was one I was ON not one I was in control of...
Thankfully, looking back now I can see a tremendous amount of work God did in my heart during this season of sickness. He removed a lot of pride. A lot. He made me dependent on my spouse in a way I had not been in our entire relationship. I really leaned on Diego for everything and as a result it made me so much more appreciative and grateful for him later on. God changed my expectations of this picture-perfect family into one that sure looked a lot more real and a lot more authentic. It was hard work but so needed.
It was clear to me that I would have to let go of my attempts to control the situation and just be led through it by my Faithful, Loving Father who really did have my best interest at heart.
Part 3 to come.
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