Expecting in Real Life

I've realized that what I would have really liked before becoming a mother is some more honesty. Honesty about what it is really like. I don't think it would have eased everything about such a big life change, but maybe it would have helped me feel less out of control? I would have liked a little less, "The pregnancy symptoms might be terrible, but you've got this mama!" and a little more, "It will be really hard, and some days you will certainly feel like you don’t have it at all, and that’s ok.”

I know that wouldn't be everyone's preference or cup of tea, but I think it may have been mine. So here is one person's take on the realities of what to expect when you're expecting. Hopefully it helps someone feel less alone and overwhelmed.

It starts before you are even pregnant. You may, unfortunately, have trouble conceiving. You may lose count of the negative pregnancy tests you throw away, after you tilt them this way and that, praying for that second line. You may resent close friends whom you care for deeply because they got pregnant quickly and easily. You may further resent them when they begin to complain about symptoms you wish you were having, because it would mean you had your own baby on the way. You may feel guilty for resenting them, and ashamed, because this is a happy time for them! You should be happy! And they are allowed to feel poorly, pregnancy is hard after all. Your friends should be able to come to you with anything. You may want them to talk to you, and at the same time, not at all. You may get angry when you finally disclose the trouble you are having getting pregnant, and they continue to voice complaints about the state you wish you were in, despite any support they offer.

You finally get pregnant! It's real! You may instantly feel guilty for all the earlier resentment. You may also feel guilty that you ultimately had an easier time than others who continue to struggle to conceive.

You may instantly fear that you will lose the baby. You may continue to take tests day after day, just to make sure that second line is still there. You may micro analyze everything you do, wondering if it's safe for the baby.

You may sleep like you have never slept before. It may be all you want to do. It may cause tension between you and your partner. "Why don't you want to spend time with me anymore?" You may still be looking the same, so why are you acting so differently? How can something so small be changing you so much, taking you away already?

You may feel fine initially and think that you may have escaped morning sickness. Then, you may not be interested in eating ever again because you did not, in fact, escape morning sickness. You subsist on crackers and sparkling water. This may horrify you, because surely this is not good for the baby. Once the morning sickness finally passes you may be stuck with the remaining crackers and sparkling water that you never, ever want to consume again.

You may reach the second trimester and begin to share the news. Suddenly, people may become much more interested in you than ever before, including people that never previously tried all that hard to be a part of your life. You may be an introvert and absolutely hate this.

You may read all the books and take all the classes, and instead of empowering you, you may just feel completely petrified and overwhelmed. You can read all the books and all the classes, and something with your pregnancy or something about your baby will still surprise you. You may be counting down the seconds until your birthing class is over and you may rejoice when you finish the last baby book and decide no more.

Your appointments may be going well, and that may ease your anxiety for a little while, but inevitably you may start worrying again. What if this time something does go wrong before your next appointment? You may wish that you could hear your baby's heartbeat all the time, just to make sure they're ok.

You can feel baby move! Such joy! Anytime they don't move when they usually do, panic may flood you. You may mercilessly poke them to make them move again, and only then can you take a breath.

You are showing beyond a shadow of a doubt. Everyone, even strangers, want to talk about the baby. Strangers touch you without permission. This horrifies you. You wish you could be left alone. You may never want to think or talk about babies ever again.

You may be excited to put together furniture. You may quickly come to realize that instructions for baby furniture are utterly incomprehensible and come to hate the process, swearing you're never putting your child in any of this garbage. You may groan in dread every time something else arrives that will need assembly.

You may be incredibly anxious about your hospital bag. You may pack and re-pack it a million times, worried if it will be enough. When the time comes, you may realize that 90% of it was not necessary. You were never going to be in a state of mind or body to use most of the things you bring anyway.

You may be so done being pregnant and so ready to meet your baby, but at the same time scared of what comes next.

You may get absolutely overwhelmed with the volume of phone calls and texts as your due date nears, some from people who never bothered to try to maintain a relationship with you before. It may ultimately fill you with rage. You may want to throw your phone across the room as your 10th phone call of the day rolls in. You may wish you had lied about your due date, said it was 2 weeks later. You may want very much to be left alone.

You may be 110% done with going to doctor's appointments once you get to your last month of pregnancy. You may feel like all you are is a test subject, and you may hate it, even as you know it's for the best of your little one.

You may be utterly paralyzed as, during one of these many appointments, your doctor says, "We need to induce, I'm scheduling you for next week." So quickly, so casually. You've wanted the baby, you've been getting ready for the baby. Why are you suddenly so afraid?

The following week your induction may get pushed back a day. You can't process and explain your emotions. You had finally gotten ready for THAT DAY. What are you going to do with a whole extra day? Sit with your anxiety?

You get to the hospital and the induction starts. Labor is the hardest thing you've ever done. When all is said and done, you may have been in labor for 40 hours, and pushed for 3. You may have vomited 3 times, and been put on oxygen and not remember. You lose track of the nurses and doctors, and how many times you said "I'm so tired." The pain, no one had been able to describe it properly to you. Toward the end someone may ask if you want to feel your baby and you summon the strength to reach for him and feel him for the first time outside of you. It gives you a little more strength. You may hear someone through the haze say, "He needs to come out now," and even after everything, a part of you can sense the concern in their voice. This also gives you a little more strength. You go up to push one last time and this time you don't stop until you feel him come out. You collapse, utterly spent, but immediately worry. You can't hear him cry, and your heart feels like it's stopped. He may be gone for 20 minutes as you are vaguely aware of people starting to work to repair your ravaged body. You finally hear him babble and murmur. He is finally brought to you and laid on your chest. You finally get to meet the most beautiful person you've ever seen, and as your partner envelops you both in a hug and tells you what a great job you did, kissing you and your son, your heart is impossibly full with the most perfect love.