I Hate Being Pregnant, I Love My Baby

I hate being pregnant.

I have wanted to be pregnant for so long. We have had a lot of trouble getting here. I was told it probably wouldn’t happen. Infertility runs deep in my family. I have been devastated. I have been lost. I bring this up to preface this post with the fact that I love my baby. I can’t believe that they are here, inside of me. I can’t believe that I can hear their heartbeat and feel their presence. I am thankful that my doctors are telling me how healthy the baby looks. I have been a person who has had heartbreak wondering if I will ever get to have a family. I don’t mean to sound ungrateful.

But, I hate being pregnant. I feel so guilty, because I am the first woman I know who hates being pregnant. Maybe some of them wanted to say “I hate this feeling,” but didn't feel comfortable. People often interpret you saying it as the equivalent of you saying “I hate my baby” or “I don’t want to be a mom.” That is so unbelievably unfair.

I have felt like I have the stomach flu every single day for four months. I work four jobs. I am constantly exhausted. Work and life don’t stop because you are hovering over a toilet every hour. Work and life don’t stop because you haven’t slept more than two hours in months, despite the fact that sleeping is all that you want to do. Work and life don’t stop because you are constipated, even more anxious than usual, so overtired that you are seeing things, battling raging migraines a few times a week, experiencing shooting and burning hot pains in your upper thighs and hips as your body expands, or because you all of a sudden have a full blown acne. Can’t I want a baby AND want to be comfortable?

It goes beyond the pains. There are things about my pregnancy that I don’t like that people immediately dismiss as vain. Who gives a shit if you’re being vain? Because you’re a mother, you aren’t allowed to want clear skin or to keep your hair or to not have stretch marks or to have your boobs stay perky instead of pointing to the ground? It is so unfair that women are supposed to stop caring about themselves as soon as they get pregnant. The trope is always a woman with crazy hair in a puke-stained pair of pajama pants looking frazzled. Throw your arms up in the air - YOU’RE JUST A MOM! If you cared for one second how you look, it would be taking a second away from your baby. Do you not love your kids? How could you possibly care about yourself in addition to your child? You must be selfish.

Hey, other pregnant women and moms out there. Tell these people to EFF OFF.

I recognize that my body is changing to accommodate my baby. I am not blind to WHY this is happening. Does it still suck to not recognize myself? To not be able to find clothes that make me feel like I am put together? Yes. Should I be allowed to say that? Yep.

There is something very strange about losing your identity. I have lost any part of me that feels like “me.” People now see me as just a pregnant person. A mom. Being a mom is a huge part of my developing identity. This baby is the most treasured part of my life. Is “mom” my full identity? No, but I am at a stage where there is no physically separating me from it. I am excited to share things about my baby, but I am just as excited to talk about this piece of art that I saw, or this new record I have been listening to, or what new restaurant I tried. There is more to my identity than this.

I am trying to be very vocal with how I feel about my pregnancy, in the hopes that it will resonate with at least one person out there. I certainly don’t want this to become a mommy blog, but I do think that there are pieces of the story that aren’t being talked about anywhere. Women are expected to only talk about how blessed they are, but what about the ways in which we are struggling?

Know that I am always here as a sounding board if you find this and you need someone to talk to. It is hard to not feel guilty when other moms act shocked that this isn’t the most amazing time in your life. Know that I am here: loving my baby but hating my pregnancy. And I don’t judge you one bit if you join me.

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