Do it for Her

I reached a new physical low the other night. My TMI issues continue to be incredibly painful, so I’ve mostly been keeping my feet up. Kristian has been wonderful about taking over more of the household chores, but I still feel guilty for leaving so much on his plate. In a vain attempt at helpfulness, I went to grab the bag from the kitchen trash can to bring it out to the curb. I bent down, stood up… and immediately doubled over in pain.

It’s the curse of the pregnant lady that we cry all the time (at least I do). It’s the double curse of the pregnant lady that people tend to assume that you’re crying over something unreasonable because you’re all hormonal and not because, oh, you just hit about an eight on the pain scale and are seeing stars.

Although let’s be honest here, would you really have blamed me for crying over the idea of being knocked on my ass by a five pound bag of trash?

Tylenol and a heating pad brought the pain down to a 6 or a 7 and I very grumpily sent myself off to bed. Where I attempted to use my body pillow, plus several other pillows, to wedge myself into a position that could be construed as vaguely comfortable. At a certain point, flailing around is more trouble than it’s worth, so I resigned myself to being mostly comfortable, but not completely so.

And then, me being me, I decided to throw myself a pity party. But the party didn’t last all that long, because little Baby Gummy took that opportunity to begin kicking me like it was her job and my heart just about melted.

Let me get one thing straight. There has never been a moment in the past 20 weeks where I have regretted our decision to have a baby. I have wanted kids for as long as I can remember and this child is going to be cherished and adored. Things have been difficult for the last few weeks, but I’ve never lost sight of the fact that I’m doing all of this because there is a beautiful little baby waiting for us at the end of this journey. I am very, very lucky to have conceived so quickly and I have done my best to approach this pregnancy with gratitude and joy.

That being said, sometimes wanting something as much as I’ve wanted this baby makes it that much harder when things get difficult. I don’t particularly enjoy being in pain all the time, but when I get upset about it, I have to add in a hefty dose of guilt to the mix. I mentally beat myself up for not being more grateful. That’s an awfully big burden to bear.

Lying there in the dark, feeling Gummy Bear’s faint little kicks, I was able to truly remember what this pregnancy is all about. It’s easy to tell yourself that there is an end goal, it’s another thing to have the end goal provide you with a reminder just by virtue of her physical presence.

I assume that Gummy is happy in there (I know I would be!). I’m pretty sure she’s healthy (she’s hitting all of her milestones and the recent round of genetic testing revealed no discoverable abnormalities). And I can pretty much guarantee that she will be loved and adored.

And, in the end, that’s all that matters.