A New Reality in The REAL Baby Journey!

I can't get over how much of an abrupt and enormous life change pregnancy has been already. I'm not even seven weeks in and everything feels different.

My sleep schedule is gone. I crawl into bed as soon as I possibly can at night, often asleep by 8 PM, but I wake up around 3 AM every morning without fail. I just lay there, wide awake, not nervous or anxious or with my mind racing...just awake. I have learned to nibble on some saltines (what a cliche!) because otherwise the nausea gets so bad I get lightheaded and the room starts to spin. I also get really hot then really cold then really hot again. Oh 3 AM, how I never even used to know you existed. Between this and eventual morning feeds, I fear we may become good friends.

And then there's food. I used to eat everything. Anything. All the things. Now most things I love(d) make me gag and even temperatures of things throw me off. Food (and everything else) smell SO MUCH and just the thought of some things send my belly into flip flops. I'm fascinated by this and just simply trying to eat whatever I can stomach at the time. Lately it's been a pretty disgusting arrangement - a lot of hardboiled eggs and fried food, unfortunately - but when I am living on saltines and water otherwise, I'll take what I can get.

Then the exhaustion. Holy. Moly. I've never known a tired like this. It's like I could sleep for 24 hours and still wake up more tired than I fell asleep. I am both amazed and impressed that the human body can sacrifice so much for such a tiny little being (it's not even the size of a pea yet!) and yet keep on going. But I am consciously thankful for all of it. It may make me gaggy and nauseated and sluggish and cranky and a little bit crazy, but all of these things hopefully mean baby is settling in and making a safe and happy home for him/herself. I told my sister early on that I hoped I got super nauseated because it would calm my frantic, anxious mind. And I was right - I do not worry about the baby much at all. I worry about what the hell I got myself into (:)) but I have left the health of the baby up to the powers that be.

I can already feel a strange kinship with other moms. I see women and their kids and I think "You did this once. You carried that person in your body and felt their first movements and your body sacrificed to make theirs. What a bond that is." I understand, or at least the first inklings of, the intense connection you feel with someone when you GREW them. It's so unlike the daughter-mother connection from a daughter's perspective. She is my mother and I love her and she has nurtured and protected me but I gave nothing to create that relationship. She gave everything - mind, body, spirit - and it doesn't end at birth. I am sure I will be able to articulate it better as time goes on but I was watching a show yesterday and an 18 year old son was leaving for college and the mom was talking about her fears for him and her concern and worry about his safety. I grasped that feeling in a new way. Mothers love their children in a way fathers cannot understand (not better or worse, just different) as they were tied to that person and changed their whole lives to create them. Again, better words will find me later, but I just wanted to make note because I thought about it last night and it struck me for the first time.

As for my life right now, I try to let my mind think a milestone at a time. I'm currently just getting from 6 weeks to 7 weeks. Next week it's getting from 7 weeks to my very first ultrasound on the start of my 8th week. After that it's making it to my high risk MD appointment during my 9th week and then getting to double digits with 10 weeks. Eventually it will be out of the first trimester then into the teens then hopefully telling Everyone if all is looking good. But I comfort myself and my propensity to worry by living one little bit of that at a time. I also try to savor each of those things. I won't be 6 weeks with this baby ever again. This is special even if I feel more hungover than I have since college. It's worth it. Nothing has ever been more worth it.

And on those days when my bones hurt and my eyes can't stay open and I'm dragging just trying to get to bed, I rely on my husband. He has been incredible and has stepped up in ways I didn't expect or anticipate. He checks on me and the baby regularly, texts me sweet things, leaves me notes, makes me dinner. He goes above and beyond to do things for me, to help me out, treat me well and make sure I know he appreciates that I'm doing this because he can certainly tell it isn't easy. I try not to complain but sometimes just explaining my day can come off that way. Last night I came home and he had bought me flowers. "Flowers? In end of April? Why?" I asked. "A thank you for carrying our baby!" he replied. I very nearly burst into tears. So much love for him.