The Beautiful, Messy Truth of Pregnancy
Day 18 - How growing a life has humbled my ego.
Whoever thought moving across the world midway through my pregnancy was a good idea was clearly an idiot, and that idiot is me. My to-do list is long, yet my energy doesn’t match. Every day I wake up with high expectations for what I can achieve, and by 10 a.m., when I am just getting out of bed most mornings, those expectations have been dashed. I get it now when people say pregnancy is like running a marathon. Even when I’m not doing anything, I feel exhausted. It’s hard not to compare myself to the pregnancy Insta influencers who are swinging kettlebells and running 15kms, while I’m over here barely making it up the stairs without having to stop to catch my breath. As someone who was extremely physically active pre-pregnancy, I have come to terms with my daily walks and low-impact workouts, but it still doesn’t mean I don’t look at those women and think, how the fuck?
So far, pregnancy has given me many 'how the fuck' moments. Like when people tell me they slept through the night and didn’t get up to pee – how the fuck? Or when someone tells me they ran right up until the day before they gave birth – how the fuck? My competitive nature desperately wants to kick in, to prove that I still can, while my body screams something else. I used to pride myself on my sleeping abilities, heck I even used to brag about them. When people would complain about not being able to sleep, I would arrogantly lift my head and let them know I could easily sleep 9 hours a night without so much as moving. To all the people I have done this to in the past, I am sorry. My desire to be better than you in that moment was wrong, and now, as someone on the receiving end of those same ego driven comments, I understand how awful they are to receive.
I have been able to deal with most things: the expanding hips, swollen boobs, random appetite, facial hair growth – but the one thing that is pushing me to my limits is the lack of sleep. I get it, people. I did this to myself, and I understand when the baby is here, it’s going to get worse. But that’s the point – the baby isn’t here yet. Let me sleep. I was pushed to my wit’s end the other day, so I decided to visit our local apothecary for help. The main lady, who I think is a naturopath, is lovely and extremely helpful. However, on the day I decided to go in, she was busy, so I ended up speaking with one of her staff members. Naively, I assumed she would have some sort of knowledge on homeopathy. So when she asked if she could help, I found myself bursting into tears, telling her about my lack of sleep, aching hips, and how I was 19 weeks pregnant. In my moment of desperation, I basically begged this woman for help. You may know that feeling when a stranger asks how you are, when you are not okay, and suddenly your walls come down, and so do the waterworks. I was embarrassed and vulnerable, but in that moment, she was my lifeline. I needed her – or so I thought. After a few seconds, she let me know that she had no idea what would help me, and then followed it up by asking, ‘So how is pregnancy? What’s it like?’
‘What’s it like?’ Are you fucking kidding me? I am in your shop, in floods of tears, begging you to help me sleep and take away my hip pain, and you want to know what pregnancy is like? I couldn’t muster up much other than ‘Well, right now, not so great, but I’m sure at some point I will love it.’ It wasn’t her fault. She was just there to mind the shop whilst her boss was busy, but it takes a lot to ask strangers for help and even more for your walls to fall down. And when there is no one there to catch you, it can leave you feeling not only embarrassed but also a little bit helpless. Needless to say, I left the shop, called a friend who is a fantastic naturopath, ordered myself some goods, and took myself home to make a hot chocolate.
Humbling.
One thing I have found in pregnancy that I didn’t expect was community. Not other mothers wanting to give me unsolicited advice or people trying to throw in their opinions. I have found women who are happy to listen and share their stories. Mothers who can empathise with what I am going through and who don’t try to gaslight my experience with positive bypassing. I have reconnected with people I had lost touch with as our lives took different paths, and pregnancy has woven them back together. I have had women send me gifts, books, and courses they thought might be helpful. Women who haven’t had children offering unlimited love and support. Women are fucking incredible, and the experience of pregnancy reminds me of that every single day. I have come across women who have shared their experience with pregnancy, the good and the bad, which has made me feel less alone.
It is the most beautiful experience of my life, whilst also being the most challenging. Growing a life that I can’t yet feel, although the flutters have started, whilst also moving through the metamorphosis of who I am becoming in the process. Humbling my ego along the way and really making me lean into the practice of surrender. I cannot force anything within this experience, and for this, I am grateful. I have sat in the masculine energy of force for so long that the feminine space of surrender and being is still so unfamiliar. I dance with it every day, and each day I remind myself to be open.
I think of all the women who have been told to be grateful that they are pregnant when they have expressed their concerns or experience, and my heart breaks for them. I am so blessed that the people in my life allow both realities to exist for me – the utter excitement to be carrying my daughter, whilst also honouring the challenges I have faced during pregnancy. It isn’t easy for everyone, and that’s OK. We can be grateful to be pregnant whilst also not really enjoying pregnancy. It doesn’t make us ungrateful; it makes us realistic about our experience. And in a world where women are still expected to pretend, it feels liberating to be honest.
