I have finally entered the second trimester of pregnancy and now that the nausea has subsided, I am enjoying renewed clarity and confidence.
For two solid months, I seemed to be in a cycle of morning sickness and just plain mourning. I was happy to be pregnant (it’s something I desperately wanted), but I felt sick most of the time and the overwhelming surge of hormones often brought me to dark places in my psyche.
I found myself worrying and crying a lot over what my new life would bring. I constantly mulled over questions like, “Will I like being a mom?” “Will I be good at it?” “How much will I struggle with missing the party?” “Will I want my old life back?”
In the midst of my deep discomfort, not having the luxury of turning to mood altering substances was a real challenge a first. There was nowhere to go or hide when I felt out of control and stressed. Physical yoga wasn’t even a great option because I usually finished class feeling more nauseous than when I started.
My whole unpredictable range of emotions was on the table and I hated how soulfully ugly I felt. Pregnancy kind of felt like rehab for a non-addict. In certain scenarios it even felt like punishment.
I was jealous and a bit resentful of my husband for not choosing to be sober with me for nine months and for not being intuitively aware of my need to exit certain social situations. But because my husband is so loving and sensitive, I know there are times when he is jealous and resentful of the fact that only I can house and grow our baby. That kind of intimate bonding is exclusive to moms only.
I started to question if I wanted this badly enough.
And then I felt guilty when I considered the many women in the world trying for years to get pregnant, who lived and breathed for the possibility of being a mom. I just kept coming to the conclusion that I was terrible, selfish and unworthy of parenting.
And now that the first trimester veil has lifted, I see that most (if not all) of my fears are truly common. I’m definitely not the first pregnant woman to have these feelings, though, they often stay bottled up, not written down for the world to see.
Today, I’ve landed in a kinder, more self-accepting place with myself. At least I’ve been honest. I want my kid to value honesty so the only choice I have is to live my truth, even when it doesn’t put me in the most glamorous light.
After almost three months of sobriety, I can say with confidence that any party happening during this pregnancy will not be nearly as cool as the epic party that is currently happening in my uterus.
At 13 weeks, I saw my baby squirming around on a sonogram— two arms, two legs, a face, perfectly developing organs and a fierce heartbeat. I’m growing a human! And yeah, it’s really overwhelming and terrifying at times, but it’s also an awesome privilege that I wouldn’t trade for anything.
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Author: Megan Ridge Morris
Editor: Renée Picard
Photo: Morten Liebach at Flickr
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