My Pregnancy

I decided to share all about my pregnancy, delivery, and post baby because I want any other mom or person out there that might be struggling, or that feels alone to know they aren’t alone. It’s okay to be having a hard time, it’s okay to not have it all together, it’s okay to fall apart. I know from my experience I have been too hard on myself and felt guilty for the feelings I was having. I want you to know it’s okay to feel, whatever way you are right now. I myself am guilty of comparing my life, pregnancy, and post baby to others that I follow on social media. I myself am also guilty of being one of those people that makes my life look completely different then it actually is. I have only been sharing the “Instagram worthy” stuff, ya know? Pictures that are edited with just the right lighting, and the times when I have make up on or feel like I’m in an outfit I want to share, or the caption that makes things look like I’m on cloud 9. It’s time that I show whoever might be reading this and following along with my journey on any part of the internet, that I am human too, I am not perfect, my life isn’t all together, and I am okay with that. One of my goals when I got this blog was to be real, and not for sympathy or attention but to be grounded and honest not only with all of you but with myself. Life as an adult is hard, it’s real, it’s raw, and it’s messy.

So from here on, this is my truth.

After Mike and I got married, of course the next question was, “When are you going to have a baby?” We had both decided that this was something we both have always wanted but we didn’t want it to be a stressful experience for us. I was worried if we were actively “trying” and it wasn’t working for us that I would become too overwhelmed and anxious. At this point we agreed that if it happened it would be because it was meant to, we weren’t going to stress. Fast forward four months and two lines later, I was officially pregnant. I had always dreamed of having children and when asked what I wanted to be when I grew up, my answer was always a wife, and a mom. For as long as I can remember I always wanted a house full of kids. I wanted to dress the bump, take the monthly pictures and be glowing.

I took the test at our house but no one else knew. After I saw two lines instantly pop up, I said “oh boy” out loud, smiled the biggest smile, giggled and then immediately started to cry. I called my sister in a panic and told her I couldn’t do this. I was overwhelmed with fear, not about growing a baby but having to deliver it. How was I going to get a human out of me. After face timing with my sister and her reassuring me I was going to be just fine, I went and got my husband. He looked at me and said, “Are you serious?!! Go pee on another one.” There was no need for that and we were both a little shocked. WE WERE HAVING A BABY!! No more hypothetically speaking. Shit got real, real fast.

For the first week I felt better than I had felt in years and I grew more and more excited. Then week five hit and hit HARD. I felt like I had been smacked by a train and the cars just kept coming. I had to go for an ultrasound to make sure things were okay, and on the screen was a tiny tiny heart pumping away. I remember sitting there so happy that everything with the baby was fine, but feeling so terrible physically that I just wanted to leave and get back to my bed. The days felt like they were never going to end and I remember thinking so many times, how am I going to do this all again tomorrow. I wasn’t even able to drink water. Anything that I put into my body was quickly rejected and there was nothing I could do about it. The only place you could find me was over the toilet, in my bed or on our couch snuggled with Henry. I wish I could say it was just morning sickness, but it lasted ALL DAY, EVERYDAY. There was no glowing, or monthly pictures. My pregnancy was nothing I dreamed it to be. My pregnancy pictures weren’t the cute ones showing the pump growing, they were me crying in the mirror in our bathroom after violently throwing up for who knows how long. I managed to take one picture with my letter board and black leggings that I had planned to do the whole time. This baby was already kicking my ass.

I was feeling so many emotions that I didn’t even know what to do with myself. How could I feel so miserable when this was suppose to be the “most exciting time of my life.” How could I not be ecstatic that I was pregnant with a healthy pregnancy that many women out there long to have and can’t. How could I not be enjoying my pregnancy and the journey to become the one thing I had always wanted to be. I was afraid, what if I didn’t like my baby? What if I got postpartum depression? What if something went wrong during delivery? I knew I was going to get through it all but how?!

The only thing that kept me going was knowing I would be getting to see the baby in ultrasounds. I was amazed by her moving and changing so much each time we got to see her. The excitement would only last while looking at her and then we would go home and I’d be back to the sickness. Then I really started to feel her move and each time was like the first. I just wanted her to keep moving and kicking, this was the most amazing thing I had ever experienced. Towards the very end I really started to feel better and was so excited to meet our sweet girl. The anticipation of who she was going to be and finally being able to hold her reminded me of how happy I was to be able to hold the title of Mom. Even though things hadn't gone as expected I knew once I saw her it was all going to be worth it. I had been convinced she would show up a couple weeks early, but to my surprise that didn’t happen. At my 40 week appointment I was still only 1cm dilated and we decided to schedule my induction. When I woke up on Thursday October 24, I knew I had to be in labor. I’ll get into that fiasco in my next post.

Until next time.

xoxo