May 8, 2012

I’ve mentioned before that my sisters had essentially symptom-free pregnancies. Which is why I expected mine to be similar.

And I’ve also mentioned that I haven’t had the easiest pregnancy so far.  I had morning sickness from week 6 until week 15 that involved only 30 minutes of real relief about three times a day.  The first 12 weeks, my sleep patterns were completely whacked out. My round ligament pains at week 18 were so severe they’d bring tears to my eyes. At week 20, the heartburn kicked in, as did the nighttime leg cramps. And at week 23, I got mid-back pain so bad I couldn’t maintain a seated position for more than an hour (I’m seeing a physical therapist for that; apparently lower back pain is normal, but mid-back is weird).

But to complain about all this, publicly, feels wrong. Wouldn’t it be the ultimate sign of ungratefulness? Because I tried so hard to get to this point, and I know so many others would kill for the lousy side effects of pregnancy, I feel disloyal and selfish for complaining about the hard parts.

Or maybe I can just accept the fact that yes, I tried really long and hard to get pregnant. And I’m really happy to be pregnant. But dammit, this is not as easy as I had expected.  Being pregnant hurts more than I thought it would. Physically, it’s really really hard on your body. At least for me.

But now that I’m 24 weeks along, I also have some really fun parts.  Peanut moves constantly now, and last night was the first time I was able to look at my bare belly and watch my skin bounce, as if a tiny boxer were inside my belly, practicing her jabs and hooks. (I do think we have a future kickboxer on our hands; while watching The Avengers on Sunday, I think she was acting out the fight scenes.) I grab my husband’s hand and put it on the spot where I can feel her; “Right there! She’s punching me!” Inevitably, the placement of Daddy’s hand on my belly makes her as quiet as a church mouse. She’s the size of an ear of corn and already knows how to mess with her Papa.

(Yes, I call her “she,” even though the gender is a total mystery. More on that later.)

So I guess I am going to give myself a bit of license to complain. When something hurts, I’m going to bitch about it, so I’m apologizing in advance if I offend someone who would rather be experiencing excruciating nighttime leg cramps over nightly 1.5-inch needles in the ass.

But trust me, I’m not ungrateful. Pain is no fun no matter how much you invited it in the first place.

About Me

Hiya! I'm Lydia. I live in Iowa with my husband and two children, both the result of iVF. I started this blog in 2011, so everything here's a wee bit... old. I don't do a ton of writing anymore... but I'm leaving the blog up, in case it's helpful for those who stumble across it.

Skip to the iVF

If you're going through infertility and want to see our journey, start in June 2011 (first two cycles) or January 2014 (third cycle). Hopefully reading about our rollercoaster with assisted reproduction brings you a little hope, and more than a few giggles. (Keep in mind that this information is over a decade old in most cases; please don't take anything you read here as medical advice. Consult your doctor for facts.)

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  1. Ahhh… You can come over and fill my ears with complaints anytime you need to let loose. That is part of what friends are for. And here is hoping you get some pain relief soon!

  2. You are a complainer, and apparently not happy with anything that you get. I hope that God grants you forgiveness and makes your child want to take care of you in your old age, which is apparently, what this child has been engineered for. That being said, in all peace — God grant you serenity and from here on out a trouble free pregnancy. AND most importantly, a child who loves you.

    • I’m a non-believer, so let’s see if I can get this right: judge not, lest ye be judged. Right?

      You’re kind of a major fail there. And don’t presume to know anything about my reasons for procreation. You are completely clueless.

      But keep up the God talk. It’s entertaining me.

    • Lol, this made me laugh muchly.

      In a nutshell, Chloe is saying: “Hi, I’m so unhappy with my life, I feel the need to find and read things on the Internet that I don’t understand or like. Then I use “God” as a defense mechanism for my incompetence and attack the offending person, someone simply using a blog as an honest outlet for their emotions and thoughts. This makes me a superior person.”

      Not only is it funny and stupid, but Jesus would say, “Yeah… Chloe? Please don’t count yourself as one of my followers. You’re kind of a twatwaffle.”

  3. Haha…Clohe is awesome! So judgmental and hiding behind religion to boot! I love people like that…they keep things entertaining, kind of like having a court jester.

    And complain away…i think we can be grateful that the infertility treatments worked while still wishing that we didn’t feel so rotten. We have nothing to feel guilty about. No one likes feeling sick, regardless of how lucky they are.


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