It's Getting Hard

Thirty-three weeks. Seven and a half months. It's getting hard.

I realize I have been blessed with an incredibly easy pregnancy so far. The first trimester was full of nausea, but no vomiting. We got our happy positive on the second to last day of school, which meant I had the entire first trimester off work. And almost every moment of the second trimester was a blissful, surreal, positively giddy experience.

And it's over.

My back hurts. My legs hurt. My head hurts.

The grinding against my pelvic bone is so intense it causes me to wince and stops me in my tracks.

I've had a nasty, nasty cold for seven straight days now with no end in sight.

The weight gain and big belly that I so proudly boasted of just a few weeks ago are bringing. me. down.

Am I complaining? Absolutely not. Is this hard? Absolutely. This blog is a reflection of my life and I've never felt called to only write about the good things. This is the reality right now. And the reality is hard.

Last night I sobbed inconsolably for nearly 10 minutes because we didn't have any oreos in the house. Ted stopped in the middle of writing his thesis and made the trek (ok-it's only a mile and a half) to Walmart to get me some oreos and milk. Then I spent the rest of the evening feeling like a giant baby for forcing my husband to do something so ridiculous just so I could stop crying. It's just insane to have this much estrogen pulsing through your body!

It's suddenly as if every aspect of my life has become difficult. I get cramps in my legs just trying to get into the car. My contractions are strong enough to wake me up all night long. Getting out of bed to get to the bathroom is more like a gymnastic routine. And darnit, there is just no getting comfortable.

I love reading weekly updates of how big the baby is getting (almost 5 pounds already!!) but the weight gain is starting to get to me. I've gained over 30 pounds-which is a third of my pre-pregnancy body weight. I'm not sure it's possible to increase your body weight by 30% in just seven months and not feel like complete crap.

The first trimester only got easier and easier as time went on. The second trimester got more exciting by the minute as my belly grew and the kicks got stronger. But the third trimester is only getting worse. And yes, I realize it ends with the birth of my child-but the thought of another month and a half/two months of this is daunting, to say the least.

Does this post need a disclaimer? Perhaps. I know some of my readers might be upset that I would say anything negative about being pregnant. I am, after all, pregnant. And that means I'm going to have a baby. And I realize that many women would give their left arm to be in my shoes. I hope it's obvious that I am eternally grateful for the opportunity God has given me. But I'm also a weak, whiny human. And right now I just want to be able to fall asleep at 1:30 in the morning and wake up at 6:30 without a pounding headache and nose full of snot.

I also want to chronicle this pregnancy journey in its entirety. And with complete truthfulness. And while a very small part of me (very, very, very, very small) is grateful for this suffering so that I have more to offer up for my prayer buddy this Advent, mostly it's just hard.

I'm not asking for sympathy. Or pity. Or even prayers really (although those are always appreciated). I'm just getting this off my chest, out of my head, and trying to pass the time until I can fall asleep again.

I love you baby. You are worth it. Every second.