By Veronica
My three-year-old loves to wear a swimsuit, but she hates to get wet. When I take her to a waterpark – like I did today – she spends the first half-hour racing in widening circles around me, chattering and playing. If we stay long enough, she may dip her fingers in the sprinklers. If we stay a little longer, she may even dip her toes. But it is clear that in her mind, swimsuits are fabulous, but water is barely tolerable.
Today at the park, watching my swimsuit-loving, water-hating girl, I recalled the way people react to me when I say that I hate being pregnant. In a few weeks, I will have my fourth baby in five years. To my friends, I always seem to be pregnant. When I say I hate pregnancy, my friends look at me and laugh. Clearly I would not do it so often, they think, if I really hated it. But the truth is that while I love my babies, I really do hate pregnancy. Pregnancy is just the price I pay for babies.
Last night I read through the posts I wrote at my personal blog during the end of my last pregnancy. I wrote about how unnerving it was to me to be so large and clumsy and obvious. I said:
I want to hide myself in a cave and lie full-length on the cool limestone until it leaches all my troubled heat away. I want to be still and quiet in the dark, and not come out until this baby is ready to be born. I want to cocoon myself, and think about something else for a while.
She will come when she comes. There is nothing I can do about it. And so I want desperately to do nothing and be unnoticed until she comes.
I must have grown as a person since then, because I don’t feel so beaten down by my own enormousness this time. I don’t need to be unnoticed. This great big belly that makes my husband laugh when I come down the stairs, this clumsy body and clothes that don’t quite fit, used to make me want to hide. But this time I am learning to see them as the swimsuit that I’ve donned for the waterpark. While I may not find them fabulous, I know they are the required costume. And when the time comes, I will throw myself into that sprinkler, joyfully soaking down to my very bones.
When Veronica is not sulking about her pregnancy, she blogs happily at Toddled Dredge.
I LOATHE being pregnant. BUT oooohhhh I love those babies!
I can’t believe that I am already jealous of you all and your new babies. With Olivia almost one, I am already missing those newborn days… I wish I could keep her a baby for at least three more years…
Cute post. Pregnant with my fourth and due in a couple weeks too…
I love wearing my baby belly, It’s awkward at times (especially when waddling down stairs or when you’ve gone through the entire grocery store only to realize at the checkout counter that your shirt had been tucked up between “the girls” and the tummy… showcasing both your newly voluptuous self and the marks stretched across the bottom of your bare belly), but it’s fun and beautiful too!
This title made me chuckle as I had the mental picture of a very pregnant woman (such as myself) traipsing through a sprinkler in a swimsuit.
Aha! Now I realize why I loved being pregnant. I spend most of my time in a climate controlled office where I freeze to death. During my pregnancy was the only time in my career where I was actually comfortable and didn’t want to wear my coat all day long.
Plus I wasn’t pregnant during swimsuit season.
i’m trying to see i that way too. i always forget how hard pregnancy is.
I can’t stand being pregnant, either. I love the little ones that result from it, but the nearly 10 months of misery that it takes to get them? Not fun at all!
I’ve only been pregnant once, and yes, it was uncomfortable, but I LOVED it. It could be because I’m heavier, though, and so I wasn’t totally unfamiliar with having a big belly to begin with… 🙂 I was happy to have a tiny person to blame it on for a few months. 🙂
I hated being pregnant too! So many who claim to love every minute seem to have the really difficult pregnancies, full of morning sickness and bed rest. I had easy pregnancies (according to my male dr!), but they weren’t enjoyable.
But they were totally worth it for the joy they brought. Hang in there! The end’s in sight. Praying all goes well.
I look seriously askew at ANY woman who claims to love being pregnant – although I didn’t mind LOOKING pregnant, I was so, SO sick for all three pregnancies. Gah. And I felt so conspicuous, this enourmous pregnant battleship. But sprinklers are for running and life isn’t for hiding away, right? Run through that sprinkler!
I would have given quite a bit to get as far as you have. I only made it to 31 weeks before having my 2 pound 11 ounce beautiful Bean. We spent almost 6 weeks in the NICU before she came home. Although, I’ve not been there yet, I’m sure those last weeks are very uncomfortable. Hang in there so you can avoid the preemie experience! I’ll be praying for comfort, peace and rest for you these last weeks.
What a great post. I had that same revelation during my second pregnancy — it was different. And now . . . oh how I long to be pregnant again.
Yes. Yes. And yes again.
Pregnancy is just a means to an end. I have friends who LOVED being pregnant. I do not relate.
I love being part of a miracle; can’t say I do that everyday. But I truly would be happy if I could watch the miracle growing in a sweet little incubator next to my bed.
I Hate being pregnant as well, but I LOVE being in labor. People tend to look at me like I have three heads when I say that.
Purchasing ambien online….
Too much ambien online. Ambien online….