I have spent three pregnancies feeling overwhelmingly happy. I skipped the morning sickness, the heartburn and the strange cravings, I grew a bump perfectly round and all out front and managed to enjoy pretty much every moment. Of course there were bits that were tough, I lost sight of my feet pretty early on, I got out of breath walking up hills and I got really tired. Overall though, I sailed through those first three pregnancies, I loved the whole experience and couldn't wait to do it all again.
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This fourth one though, it isn't the same at all. From the beginning this pregnancy has been tough, there have been more tears and more pain than the other three combined.
I still don't have it bad, somehow I managed to skip the nausea and morning sickness for the fourth time and for that I am ever grateful, but the first trimester tiredness was just debilitating. I could barely function as a human let alone a parent and our house descended into chaos as I thanked the TV gods that Blaze and the Monster Machines was on pretty much constantly on Nikolodeon. Toys piled up, washing overflowed, dishes were left dirty for far too long and bed sheets were rarely washed.
I felt like I should be enjoying our little secret, this fourth and very much final baby I was growing, but instead I just felt tired, overwhelmingly tired. The first trimester problems seemed to clear up slightly at around 16 weeks and I had a few weeks of respite, but way before I reached the final trimester, things started to get tough again. I am not getting any younger, my body has carried four babies in four years, my pelvic floor muscles may not be as strong as they once were and this little madam I am growing is already rather large. My back started to struggle first, and rather than taking it easy, I chose to power through, something I am now regretting.
Somedays I am fine, others I can barely walk by the evening, the bottom of my back aches, I feel bruised and heavy and this baby is nestled (breech) very low in my pelvis. My body is struggling this time and things that I am so used to doing throughout pregnancy are getting harder. My pace is slowing, my ability to lift my children comes with a sacrifice of an evening of pain, because quite frankly they are pretty heavy boys.
And on top of this, I really understand what people mean by pregnancy hormones. I cry more than ever, but I also feel overwhelming love more often. I need time to myself every day to be a tolerant person and that doesn't come easily with three small people who need me. My moods can dip unexpectedly and nothing can pull me out and my patience wears thin very quickly.
I love pregnancy, and I still do, despite everything. I am not ready for this little one to arrive, I want to grow bigger, to feel her kicking from the inside a little longer, to embrace my changing shape and watch this miracle happening. I am still amazed every time I look down, I still smile and rest my hands on my tummy everytime she kicks and I want to savour each moment, each final week with her safely inside, and my three boys just the way they are.
But this pregnancy is tough both physically and emotionally. I feel stressed and tired and achey and moody and I never expected it to be this difficult, especially not with 10 weeks still to go.
I wouldn't give up the chance to carry this baby for anything, I know how lucky we are to be adding another member to our team, I really do know how lucky I am, but it doesn't mean that pregnancy isn't tough sometimes.
I felt like I should be enjoying our little secret, this fourth and very much final baby I was growing, but instead I just felt tired, overwhelmingly tired. The first trimester problems seemed to clear up slightly at around 16 weeks and I had a few weeks of respite, but way before I reached the final trimester, things started to get tough again. I am not getting any younger, my body has carried four babies in four years, my pelvic floor muscles may not be as strong as they once were and this little madam I am growing is already rather large. My back started to struggle first, and rather than taking it easy, I chose to power through, something I am now regretting.
Somedays I am fine, others I can barely walk by the evening, the bottom of my back aches, I feel bruised and heavy and this baby is nestled (breech) very low in my pelvis. My body is struggling this time and things that I am so used to doing throughout pregnancy are getting harder. My pace is slowing, my ability to lift my children comes with a sacrifice of an evening of pain, because quite frankly they are pretty heavy boys.
And on top of this, I really understand what people mean by pregnancy hormones. I cry more than ever, but I also feel overwhelming love more often. I need time to myself every day to be a tolerant person and that doesn't come easily with three small people who need me. My moods can dip unexpectedly and nothing can pull me out and my patience wears thin very quickly.
I love pregnancy, and I still do, despite everything. I am not ready for this little one to arrive, I want to grow bigger, to feel her kicking from the inside a little longer, to embrace my changing shape and watch this miracle happening. I am still amazed every time I look down, I still smile and rest my hands on my tummy everytime she kicks and I want to savour each moment, each final week with her safely inside, and my three boys just the way they are.
But this pregnancy is tough both physically and emotionally. I feel stressed and tired and achey and moody and I never expected it to be this difficult, especially not with 10 weeks still to go.
I wouldn't give up the chance to carry this baby for anything, I know how lucky we are to be adding another member to our team, I really do know how lucky I am, but it doesn't mean that pregnancy isn't tough sometimes.
