This is a horrible thing to say, I think, so I am going to just get it out of the way.
I hate pregnancy.
Don’t get me wrong. I love the end result. I (obviously) like what led to getting pregnant. I love the idea of new life and I love that I KNOW this was planned by God and not me. (I have stories. I just haven’t felt comfortable enough to share them)
I don’t love the way I feel. I don’t love the way I look. I hate the emotions and the hormones, the pain and the feeling that my body is not. my. own.
Pregnancy is not glamorous, unless you are a Hollywood star. Somehow Hollywood stars always look fabulous.
I feel like I already stick out like a sore thumb when I show up somewhere with three kids. Then when someone notices that I am sporting a belly, I get the “look”, or I get the “comments”. (“You know what causes that, right?”. “You have 3, and you are having another?” (no, actually I have 4 and I am having another, but she doesn’t like to go anywhere with us))
My husband has been amazing through this whole pregnancy. More amazing than he was through the other three pregnancies. (don’t hurt yourself trying to figure that out, my oldest was gained through marriage, but she’s mine, all mine. No one nags her like I do. Ask her.) Even with as amazing as he has been, I don’t feel attractive to him. He can tell me I am, and I feel like he is just being nice. I look at myself in the mirror and say “how can he be attracted to THIS?”. I want to believe what he says, but the mirror doesn’t lie. (my thoughts and emotions probably do though)
Pregnancy has brought a lot of changes to our lives. Add it in with my husband losing two jobs within 6 weeks, having a whole summer off, starting a new job, homeschooling my kids and my brother dying, we are in change overload. I want things to be the way they were before I got pregnant, after my husband lost his job and gained a new one and before my brother died, but sometimes when changes come, it’s impossible to go back to the way things were before.
So a lot of mornings, I wake up hopeful. Hopeful that the day is going to end better than it did the night before. By bed time, I am exhausted, emotional, worn out, teary eyed. I just want to pull the covers up over my head and ignore the world, which isn’t good at all for the guilt feelings that hit me at 4am when I realize that I wasted time moping that could have been better spent with my husband. Then I blame him… and me being pregnant. Because if I wasn’t pregnant…. yeah, never mind.
Pregnancy is not kind to me. I have accepted it. I look forward to welcoming a little life to the world. I would be absolutely lying if I said I enjoyed this though. I know that this life will bring blessings to our lives, but I have threatened another life if that v-word is not scheduled in January. 😉
Do YOU enjoy pregnancy? Do you feel like your relationship with your spouse suffers when pregnant? (I do and I hate it)
Please tell me I am not alone in these feelings.