After telling a little boy that I was pregnant and explaining that I had a “baby in belly”, he responded with, “I want a baby in my belly, too.” Trying to explain to a three year old boy that they just can’t and never will is almost impossible. And then it dawned on me: I have this amazing thing happening to me that no male will ever experience and many women have trouble having it happen.
I didn’t have terrible pregnancies for my first two, but believe me, they were a challenge at times. For my first one, it was adjusting to the nausea and change of my center of gravity. Navigating everything for the first time with a huge belly was something I couldn’t understand. Plus, I was too afraid to do anything that might jeopardize the baby, which meant no caffeine, no deli, no sips of wine, and no sex (my poor husband). For my second, it was trying to manage my toddler and myself, adjusting yet again to the nausea and change in eating habits. I was less cautious with everything though (caffeine, some sips of wine, deli meat), and realized I could let go a lot and still have a healthy baby. My moodiness was definitely more heightened, and my husband commented on it a lot, which made it a cycle of my moody behavior and his comments making it feel worse. I realized that it was a gift to get pregnant, but I didn’t appreciate it fully at the time.
Now that I am in my third and last pregnancy, I am starting to realize that I need to be more aware of everything. I see it through my children’s eyes now. My eldest keeps saying, “wow, your belly is going to grow!” which normally would upset me, but seeing their happiness at a new sibling is infectious. Even my youngest surprises me by kissing my belly every now and again. I am going to document this pregnancy like I did my other two, but I want to make sure to remember moments that I can. It’s amazing that I have this little life growing inside of me, and I’m protecting it, nurturing it, loving it before it even has a chance to get out into this crazy world. I will remind myself of these moments when I just want it to be over because I know I will never feel this way again.
When my husband came home from work today, I asked him if he would ever want to have this feeling. “Nope. Never.” Seriously? “Yeah, I’m all set. I wouldn’t want to squeeze something that big out of any hole.” (I changed what he really said to not be super inappropriate or disturbing). I guess as women we have to go it alone and try to enjoy it however we can, am I right?