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My story is raw, emotional and very real about my experience as a new mother. |
Expectations: Part 1 *** So what was that like? I was about to find out. My husband and I found out that we were pregnant and expecting in September 2009. We were so excited, both of us wanted a baby, we both knew that this was going to be exciting, hard and a serious life changer. Whatever the challenges, we were ready for them; or so we thought. I was so excited to experience all of the typical pregnant experiences that you’re inundated with by movies, books, family and friends. To know what every woman felt, the good and bad. I wanted to feel it all. I was even looking forward to experiencing the infamous morning sickness and anyone that has gone through that knows that it’s not just in the morning, it is all day and can last for months if not the entire pregnancy. The first three months is like a diet due to the constant bouts of vomiting, whether you’ve eaten or not. You’re throwing up so much that women tend to lose weight rather than gain. Then the fun hits when you get into your second trimester. Where intense food aversions can propel a woman to spring up suddenly and sprint to the nearest waste basket or toilet as if her life depended on it. This action is so quick that most husbands who first experience this are awestruck and left dumbfounded at what just took place. This repugnance to a food item or items is so overwhelming that the mere sight, smell or thought of it is the propelling factor to her sudden athleticism. However, on the plus side are wonderful and delicious food cravings that make all of the vomiting worth it. Cravings that can take over you and fill you with an intense desire to eat peanut butter straight out of the jar with a spoon or cause you to threaten your spouse to get out of bed at two am in the morning and get a hot fudge sundae or suffer the wrath of a hungry pregnant woman. The weird food cravings like pickles on ice cream, loads of warm cheese drizzled over anything and everything, or a longing to have a fantastically warm molten lava chocolate cake topped with raspberry chocolate sauce that is slowly dripping off of the top and down the sides which is then perfectly surrounded by sweet fresh red raspberries that seem to only flirt with you’re your sense of control to eat sensibly. For some, its six months of playing Russian roulette with food and the possibility of embarrassing yourself by vomiting in public or wearing what you’ve been eating on your clothes. These three things I was expecting to experience and never did. My pregnancy seemed to take on a completely different path. No morning sickness, no food cravings or aversions. No. My body decided to that it was necessary to drink three liters of water a day and eat as much fruit possible. What I did find frustrating was everyone around me, except for my husband, was constantly telling me that I should be eating more, because “I’m eating for two.” What a load of bull and a massive myth. Yes I’m pregnant and no I shouldn’t be doubling my food portions, helping myself to a second full sized serving, or binge eating because there is a little person growing inside me. I’m not sure what people are thinking, I know it’s a really old way of viewing pregnancy and women, however you have to really think about it. I’m told that the size of an average adults’ stomach is roughly the size of their fist, which isn’t that big. This translates to this little person having the stomach size of a finger nail – depending on the stage of development you’re in. I prefer not to have to work off forty pounds of fat after I have this baby but it was shocking at how many people told me to eat more. So far my pregnancy experience was pretty lack luster. I didn’t feel pregnant, I didn’t look pregnant in my first five months, so much to the point that I continued to take pregnancy tests. I was sure that the doctor was wrong, even the ultra sound wasn’t convincing. This little pea size thing, a dot really was a baby? A baby that didn’t make me a complete lunatic over food, didn’t make me an emotional wreck, or even make me gain any real weight. Were all of the stories that I had been told even true? When would I feel like something was inside me and most importantly I still needed to know what it would feel like. |
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