Step by Step Parenting

I am going to say what I wish someone had sat me down and told me when I was pregnant the first time:

It’s ok to not love being pregnant, or not even like being pregnant, and even maybe sometimes hate being pregnant!

Let me just preface this whole blog post by making it clear that I am in no way unappreciative of what a privilege it is to be able to get pregnant. It is not lost on me what a miracle pregnancy is. I am immensely grateful for healthy pregnancies and healthy babies. I am no stranger to pregnancy loss, either. I know what it is like to be unexpectedly pregnant, or to desperately wish to be pregnant. I am aware than some people would give anything right now to be pregnant or to be reunited with angel babies. However, none of that negates the very real physical and emotional struggles that many moms face during pregnancy.

I am almost to the end of the second trimester of my second pregnancy, and so far, this pregnancy has been both easier and harder than I thought it would be.

It’s easier because this isn’t my first rodeo. I had a better idea of what to expect this time, which changed how I took care of myself and advocated for myself at the beginning of my pregnancy. For example, I requested anti-nausea medication much earlier this time around, and kept trying different medications and combinations until I found something that worked (somewhat) for me.

I was able to work from home for all of my first trimester, and even cut my hours in half once the pregnancy symptoms really hit hard. This was a huge change from my first pregnancy, where I worked full-time in a restaurant up until 32 weeks pregnant (still not sure how I did that…). Every day of this pregnancy, I have been grateful for the amount of time that I’m simply able to lay in bed and do nothing. I didn’t have that during my first pregnancy.

And not to mention, I have an amazingly supportive husband now, as well. My ex and I split household responsibilities evenly during my first pregnancy, but this go around, I can’t lie– my husband and I have not split everything evenly and I’ve turned into a spoiled princess! Not only have I been able to enjoy staying home this pregnancy when I didn’t last time, but I’ve also been able to stay at home and do nothing. My husband has handled nearly all of the dishes, cooking, laundry, chores, oh, and not to mention, taking care of our three kids. So for all of those reasons, this pregnancy has been easier than my first.

But in many ways, this is my first rodeo (thanks, twins!), so this pregnancy has been harder than I thought it would be. Not to mention it’s been five years since I was last pregnant. All of that experience that I thought would carry over from my first go round has faded and been forgotten, or simply isn’t applicable.

This really became noticable around the 22 or 23 week mark of this pregnancy, where I officially measured the same size as I did the day I gave birth to my last daughter. This realization was, honestly, extremely depressing. By 22 weeks in my first pregnancy, most of my nausea had faded, I was working as normal, and could eat whatever I want. Maybe my back hurt by the end of the day, but it was never anything that a bubble bath and a nap couldn’t fix. I never even had to buy maternity clothes, a pregnancy pillow, or many other typical pregnancy purchases. Right as the size of my belly, and the pain that comes along with that, truly became too much to bear, it was time to give birth!

So to reach that same point physically during this pregnancy, but know that I still had anywhere from 8 to 16 weeks to go, was daunting to say the least. From weeks 22-24, the amount of physical pain and discomfort I was in increased rapidly, and my mental health declined. It really hit me then that I had spent the whole first 24 weeks of my pregnancy sick, nauseous, and bedridden. I looked forward to the end of the first trimester, thinking that would bring relief, and then the 18 week mark, and then the 24 week mark, but relief never came. My nausea got slightly better, and I was no long completely reliant on anti-nausea medication, but I still wasn’t free to eat whatever I wanted and still found myself triggered by certain smells or foods almost daily. I had spent the entire semester of law school up until that point telling myself (and professors), “It’s okay, I’ll feel better in just another week!” But that week never came. Any symptoms that did go away were replaced by new ones, such as heartburn, insomnia, and everything else that comes with having a belly the size of what would be week 30 for a singleton pregnancy at only 24 weeks.

But by week 25, I knew that whether I had 5 weeks or 13 weeks left of being pregnant, that I could not spend all of those remaining weeks wallowing in sadness, pity, and despair. Those feelings were valid, yes. Nobody said being pregnant, much less with twins, would be easy. However, I didn’t want to spend the rest of my pregnancy completely miserable. My symptoms are out of my control, but my response to them is not. When pregnancy feels like anything but a gift, it’s important to find something — anything — to be grateful for.

I started by reaching out for help. I prayed to God to be able to see the silver lining, feel more grateful, and find solutions to some of my struggles. I knew better than to say a generic prayer asking to “feel better” physically, but I knew that if I asked Him for help with prioritizing gratitude, that He could help me feel better spiritually and emotionally. Especially on the hard days, I clung to prayer and scripture study in an attempt to feel that extra heavenly support.

I also posted in an online support group for fellow twin moms. Although no one had easy fixes, the dozens of comments from other moms pregnant with twins who were also struggling were so, so comforting. I have lots of friends and family who can understand the unique hardships of being pregnant with twins, but to be able to vent to other moms who were truly in the same boat was cathartic. Every single twin mom agreed that starting around weeks 22-25, you have an, “Oh crap” moment as things started to get harder than you could ever imagine. We aren’t ungrateful for feeling that way, just overwhelmed. Still, to see all of the other moms lifting each other up, helping each other to focus on the positives, and, if nothing else, reminding us that it will eventually be over, was so comforting.

I also decided to splurge on myself, which is something I typically struggle to do. I purchased a few more maternity shirts so that I could feel more comfortable in my changing body, ordered a pregnancy pillow and lap desk to help me be more comfortable, and allowed myself more breaks during the day than I typically do. This is hard to do during finals season at law school, but my brain needs more rest to function than it did before. I knew that I would just have to trust the work I had put in all semester as I let my body rest more and prepare for finals.

And lastly, I am actively trying to find even little things to be grateful for every day. I am grateful for every single day I’m pregnant, because that’s one more day my babies are cooking safely inside me. I am grateful to still be sleeping relatively okay at night, even if that changes soon. I am grateful that I am still able to walk the three blocks to school, even if it takes me longer. I am grateful that I’m not throwing up every day, or even every other day, like I was during the first several months of my pregnancy. I am grateful for the opportunity to attend law school full-time while pregnant, even if it is extremely difficult. I am grateful for Zofran, Diet Coke, seat heaters, cozy blankets, homemade meals, Chick-fil-a chicken minis, and truly too many more things to name. Because that’s the thing about gratitutude: once you start searching for reasons to be grateful, it becomes easy to find more things to be grateful for, big or small.

I am learning, for the second time around, that it’s okay if pregnancy doesn’t feel like a gift. It’s okay if I have to work really hard to enjoy any part of pregnancy. This doesn’t make me a bad mom, it just makes me human.