The number one question I get asked nowadays is, “How are you feeeeeeling?” or “How are you dooooing?” Which really means, “How is the pregnancy going?” My answer is always, “I feel great!” And it’s not “great!” as in, I’m trying to appease you with a happy answer but I really feel like death. Pre-pregnancy I usually answered such a question with “good” or “fine” most of the time for fear that an in-depth conversation about myself would ensue. So when I tell people I feel great, I can’t help but wonder if they think I’m giving them a canned answer. I really do feel GREAT. This is how my pregnancy has gone thus far:
During the first trimester I was tired, very tired. More tired than I’ve ever been in my life (if you know me well, you know this is saying a lot. I sleep A LOT, and I am tired A LOT by nature). This excessive tiredness was probably more due to the pregnancy + 12 to 14 hour days/working six days a week work schedule. Other than being tired, I was GREAT. Hungry a lot. Either not pooping enough or pooping too much (TMI, BETSY!). But GREAT.
During second trimester I am less all-around tired and more I get tired easily. To cope, I take breaks during errands and chores. I was less hungry, but now I’m starting to be more hungry again (I know the correct word is “hungrier” but I want to keep the sentence structure parallel, people!). I’m still pooping too much or too little (hopefully this ends by Liam’s birthday because I’d really like to avoid an enema and pooping on my poor doctor. This weekend my mom laughed (a rather uncomfortable laugh, probably more so related to her disbelief that I was talking so candidly about pooping in front of my stepdad, her, and Josh) and replied, “Betsy, you’re so not going to care.” She’s probably right. Because mother’s ALWAYS ARE), but it’s no big deal. My abdomen is starting to feel tight, but what do you expect? There’s a BABY in there (one that is roughly the size of an ear of corn). These days, I fill-up quickly during meals, as stomach expansion has given-way to uterus expansion. Case in point: I ate too much for dinner last night. I got Josh’s attention, pointed to the top of my growing belly, and said, ‘It hurts RIGHT HERE;” which is about six inches higher than normal (I’m trying not to truly ponder the logistics of the space issue because it kind of FREAKS me out). But I still feel all-around GREAT.
And then I almost feel guilty for feeling so great. I’ve read countless recaps of women whose pregnancies were hell or of women how had to endure unspeakable heartbreak. Believe me; I know that I am blessed. I thank God every day for a myriad of things related to this baby. Things have been SO great, that a scary thought occasionally slithers into my brain: that it’s bound to end sometime. And then I catch myself, and I realize: God is SO MUCH greater than that. I realize this, and I relax. My God loves me, and my God loves Liam. And my God is capable of such GREAT love. I realize this, and I enjoy the GREATNESS that he’s blessed me with.
Side note: Josh and I were worried that we would have fertility problems. Many of the women in my family struggled to get pregnant. Josh’s mom struggled to get pregnant. A few years ago, I ran into a problem that caused worries (but is no longer a worry – I told you God is GREAT). I tell you this to tell you the cutest story involving my husband: My stepmom sent me a package a few months ago (I was freshly pregnant) containing a book and a little plaque that says, “God answers prayers.” After opening the box, I asked Josh where he thought we should hang the plaque. Without skipping a beat, Josh answered, “Above the guest bedroom door because that’s going to be the baby’s room.” I was speechless for a few seconds (THAT’s how much it impacted me), and then I agreed that it would be the perfect location. Every time I see that little plaque hanging above Liam’s door I am reminded of just how true the words are.