Dear Body:
Lately, you and I have been somewhat butting heads. I know this is primarily due to the little nugget you are baking inside. And I can understand that. But, I can't help but feel a little frustrated that NO MATTER what I do, you give me no relief. There are thousands of beautiful, strong women who have been pregnant before me and they forged ahead with courage and determination...eventually conquering the early pregnancy uglies. And for a small moment, after my flippin' 5:30 am morning walks with my darling father, I feel that determination and courage. I will eat breakfast, shower, start the laundry, do the dishes, make the bed, vacuum, take the Christmas wreaths down off the front lights, set up my visiting teaching appts, practice hymns for sacrament meeting, go grocery shopping, teach my scheduled piano lessons for the day, and have a beautiful, healthy meal all cooked and ready to eat by the time my adorable, hardworking husband comes home from work. It's perfect, beautiful, and uncomplicated.
So...I eat my breakfast. About 20 minutes later I am on the couch, trying to avoid the toilet. I fall asleep, because that seems to get my mind off of puking. I wake up about an hour later, feeling icky. I eat some saltines and pop a "Preggie Pop" in my mouth (Thank you Carrie for dropping those off. You are a dear.) I start to feel a little better. I get up to check my email, etc. After about 20 minutes, I am down on the couch again, trying to avoid the toilet. Ummm..body? Do you understand that I am SO OVER visits to the toilet which involve...well, you know. I eat some goldfish and watch another episode of The Office, trying desperately to distract myself. (Um, can I say that I have memorized more of this show than I am willing to admit? The Office and I have become close due to large amounts of time laying on the couch and the fact that everything else on Netflix annoys me or is uninteresting.) Pretty soon I'm feeling hungry, but nausea makes me feel gaggy about eating what I'm craving. Does that make sense? It doesn't to me. So, I get up anyway to make myself a sandwich, open a sugar free pudding cup, or grab some pickles. (Cliche. I also enjoy green olives.) And this cycle continues to repeat itself over and over. Sometimes, trips to the toilet are just unavoidable. A lot of times, there is a piano lesson in the afternoon. Usually I'm barely showered and in sweats and a hat. No makeup. No makeup at all. Before bed, I look at myself in the mirror. I ask "What have you accomplished today? What happened to all you goals? What happened to the determination and courage?"
Then I see my eyebrows and am appalled at how outgrown and under-groomed they are. Disgusting. Which reminds me, when was the last time I shaved my legs? Ugh, I don't want to think about it. I can't stand the smell of our dang bathroom, so I spray some more Febreeze and shut the door. Now I can't stand the smell of our bedroom. I walk down the hall to get some water from the fridge. I look at the dishes and my gag reflex flares up. I breath through my mouth. Why is everything so gross?
As we get into bed, I pop a Jolly Rancher in my mouth, because....of course I'm STILL trying to avoid the toilet. At this point, my sweet husband wants to cuddle and kiss and all I can think is "You've got to be kidding me?"
Oh body. So many things are changing for us, and because you are MY body, of course you don't like change. Not one bit. You and I are similar that way. We are extra sensitive to anything different or unusual. We've never been pregnant before and being pregnant is a pretty BIG change. In the quiet of the night, after my stomach settles, my thoughts turn to this little precious being we are growing. At that moment, I love you. I love that you have this capability. I love that you were created for this. And I am grateful you continue to give me feedback that things are going well...even if that feedback brings me to my knees next to the toilet. Sometimes I feel guilty for complaining so much. But, I don't think there's anything wrong with frankly stating that the last few weeks have been (pardon) damn hard. They have. Maybe thousands of other women are stronger, better at this. And that's okay. To them I say "God Speed!" But for you and I, body, we continue to endure. Not necessarily always enjoying, but enduring. My thoughts turn to my mission. Would I say I enjoyed EVERY SINGLE DAY of my missionary service? No. Up until the past few weeks, it was the hardest thing I ever did. But can I say my mission brought joy and, if given the choice again, I would make the same decision to serve? Absolutely. I have a feeling the next several months will be similar to this, with the exception that we will be blessed with a beautiful baby at the finish line.
So, I continue to pray for relief. Relief for you, body. I know you are working so hard to do what you were created to do. In a couple of weeks, we will be past the 1st leg of this race called "pregnancy". B and I look to it with hope and excitement...mostly praying some relief will be found and we can experience more of the joys. In the meantime, I will try and not strangle or curse at "helpful" people who remind me that some women have this their whole pregnancy and it may last for the next 6 1/2 months, so I need to be prepared or learn to "deal" with it. Really? Of all the encouraging things to say to a hormonal pregnant woman who is sick and tired of being SICK AND TIRED? You really thought THAT would make me feel uplifted, motivated, and ready to "kick it" into high gear? Hmmm. Yeah, I'm gonna have to say no.
And on that note, I think I'll use the bathroom.
Sincerely,
Megan
