Farewell, Pregnancy
Dear Pregnancy,
It's been a wild ride, wouldn't you say? When we first met, I was (literally) sickened by you. Smells nauseated me and my poor husband couldn't eat some of our favorite meals in front of me because they would send me into a pre-vomit panic.
But then something amazing happened. I began to love you. I watched in awe as my belly grew (and grew, and grew...) and sat in amazement when I first felt the tiny flutters of little feet and hands growing inside of me. I heard the thumping of a heartbeat and fell in love with a grainy black & white image of my baby girl. I read about her weekly development and compared her size (and my growing abdomen) to various vegetables and fruits.
As time went on, you started to cause me physical pain. I began to waddle as a result, and I became self-conscious whenever I'd take one of my 15-20 daily bathroom trips at work. I asked "mommy friends" (and my kind OB) questions about topics that I hoped I would never have to speak about. I developed stretch marks ("battle wounds," if you will) that, for a time, made me feel ashamed to look at myself in the mirror. I experienced regular backaches, thanks to my continually growing belly and my (I don't want to talk about it) weight gain.
And, most importantly, I fell in love with my husband - again. And much, much more. I experienced the growth of an immense love for a tiny being who, by the way, I have still not yet met, but who has already stolen my heart with the kind of gusto that can bring me to tears at just the thought of her, and who she might someday be.
You have been quite an experience. A roller coaster, for sure, and one that I will likely be exiting soon. So, dear pregnancy, I wish you farewell. It's been a joy (and a pain) getting to know you.
Until we meet again,
Emily
It's been a wild ride, wouldn't you say? When we first met, I was (literally) sickened by you. Smells nauseated me and my poor husband couldn't eat some of our favorite meals in front of me because they would send me into a pre-vomit panic.
But then something amazing happened. I began to love you. I watched in awe as my belly grew (and grew, and grew...) and sat in amazement when I first felt the tiny flutters of little feet and hands growing inside of me. I heard the thumping of a heartbeat and fell in love with a grainy black & white image of my baby girl. I read about her weekly development and compared her size (and my growing abdomen) to various vegetables and fruits.
As time went on, you started to cause me physical pain. I began to waddle as a result, and I became self-conscious whenever I'd take one of my 15-20 daily bathroom trips at work. I asked "mommy friends" (and my kind OB) questions about topics that I hoped I would never have to speak about. I developed stretch marks ("battle wounds," if you will) that, for a time, made me feel ashamed to look at myself in the mirror. I experienced regular backaches, thanks to my continually growing belly and my (I don't want to talk about it) weight gain.
And, most importantly, I fell in love with my husband - again. And much, much more. I experienced the growth of an immense love for a tiny being who, by the way, I have still not yet met, but who has already stolen my heart with the kind of gusto that can bring me to tears at just the thought of her, and who she might someday be.
You have been quite an experience. A roller coaster, for sure, and one that I will likely be exiting soon. So, dear pregnancy, I wish you farewell. It's been a joy (and a pain) getting to know you.
Until we meet again,
Emily
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| 39 weeks |
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| 12 weeks |
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